The art of opposites
by We'reAllABitOdd
Summary: Edward Elric became the Fullmetal Alchemist at the age of 10. At the age of 11 he received his Hogwarts letter, the same time as Harry Potter got his own. However, it is unknown to the staff of Hogwarts that there is both a foreign military officer and a traitor in their midst. Set during the philosopher's stone and pre FMA. Rated T because of Ed's mouth.
1. Chapter 1

The child wandered aimlessly, comfortably, casually, _familiarly_ through the halls of the Central military headquarters. The noise his boots made on the floor and the constant rattling of metal that followed him drew attention towards his figure but never once was his presence greeted with surprise – often he was greeted with salutes. The young officer didn't like the respect that his rank earned him from people many years his senior – he was a state Alchemist for the resources not the ranking as major.

Suddenly a panting NCO rushed at him, still wet behind the ears. The NCO saluted stiffly to the boy, his breathing still uneven and laboured as a result of his dash as he searched for the major.

"Major Fullmetal Alchemist, Sir!" The young NCO declared loudly, politely and officially – clearly waiting to explicitly be given permission to relay his message. When it was given to him he lowered his salute but still stood stiff. He spoke quickly – nervous of the young child who stood ahead of him – much his superior. "Sir, you are wanted by Colonel Mustang in his office, urgently. I'm afraid he didn't tell me for what reason, he only told me to inform you that your brother was up their waiting."

"Thanks." The boy muttered - dreadfully informal – as he walked the all-too-familiar route to the bastard's office. The NCO stared on in shock, the boy – not even dressed in the correct uniform – trailed off with posture so good he was sure that someone had trained it into him and shuffling feet. He watched the golden braid disappear around the corner with a flash, whipping out behind the boy as his pace quickened and he turned the tight corner that lead to the stairs. The NCO muttered and shook his head as he walked off – reconsidering the extent to which he stiffly used formalities in his workplace after a single, brief encounter with his young superior.

Edward staked into the office of his own superior and commanding officer as he usually did – broodingly. The scene that played out before him brought what little regularity he had in his life, among all the misconducts and impromptu outings that occurred rather frequently, to light. As always, Colonel Roy Mustang was procrastinating fiercely. Stacks of paperwork lay unfinished on top of his desk – Edward was very much convinced, without a single word spoken, that the majority of it was long overdue – and he was putting off the completion of them further by claiming to is lieutenant – who was growing increasingly impatient – that he had urgent business to attend to with "Fullmetal" who would be there at any moment. The aforementioned lieutenant was stood to the side of the lazy Colonel's desk, one hand on her hip, the other placed discreetly over the holster that held her handgun. She sighed periodically, in an odd combination of amusement and frustration. Off to the side of the room, in a chair very clearly intended for a figure of far smaller stature, (most would have suggested Edward himself as the perfect replacement, even if just to get a rise from the boy) there sat a sentient suit of armour, standing at about eight-foot-high should Edward have to estimate.

"Brother!" the armour shot to its feet and called out in a juvenile voice that was greatly mismatched to its appearance - the voice coming from the metal figure was that of a pre-pubescent boy, only echoed and somewhat hollow.

"Hey Al." The young boy smiled up at the armour, his slanted golden eyes lighting up and a quirky grin pulling at his lips.

"Fullmetal." The man's voice came from his desk smoothly, sending odd shivers down Edward's spine as the way he spoke on that particular day brought with it a fierce sense of foreboding. As he spoke he sent a triumphant, cocky grin at his lieutenant who was no longer devoting her full attention to her commanding officer, rather to the young alchemist who had just recently entered the office.

"Good to see you again Edward." She spoke with a maternal smile pasted across her features, despite the sharp look of her uniform and her pulled back hair, her features were soft and caring – something that she was very aware of the brothers' yearning for.

"You too, Hawkeye." He was being kind to her as he often was, in the way she doubted Colonel mustang would ever see the boy. "What did you want bastard? Why send a new NCO, you know I hate it when people treat me like I – I"

Mustang cut him off once he began stuttering, something that was greatly unexpected of the obnoxious boy "Like you're their superior? What else are you then?"

"An alchemist. Alchemist be thou for the people. Unlike you – bastard – I do not work the way that I do purely out of selfishness."

"Whatever you say. You know," An evil looking grin spread over his features indiscreetly "I do think you are rather _short_ in the personality department at times -none of us are perfect, Fullmetal. If you so much as pretend to be otherwise it is complete asininity."

Edward's teeth had gritted at the mention of the word 'short' and his eyes began to blaze – Hawkeye looked on in dismay, clasping her hand tighter around the grip of her gun. "Don't call me short! You're just a freakishly tall Dickhead!"

"language pipsqueak." Mustang was greatly amused but Hawkeye was just fed up. Swiftly she drew her gun and fired a single bullet into the wall behind he superior, just above his head.

"Sir, you had something to tell Edward, did you not?" She gently urged him to change the topic of conversation to the 'pressing matters' that they had to discuss.

"Ah yes." He turned his attention to a still flaming Edward. "You've been receiving mail."

"Where the hell from?"

"Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry."

"Hogwarts school of what now?

"Witchcraft and wizardry."

"Is this a joke. It's a pretty poor one bastard."

"It's not Edward. Please just head down to the train station at 0900 hours tomorrow. You are to meet a man named Hagrid."

"Fine." he conceded, "But what of Al? he's coming, right?"

There was a tint of threat applied to the end of the sentence and Mustang was actually hesitant to answer. He let out a breath – he had concluded that exhalation was using at least a moment of time, forever the procrastinator – "No." He did not want to drag out his reply for any longer than necessary.

"No!" Edward replied in much the same way.

Mustang prepared himself to answer but Alphonse beat him to the catch "It's okay brother. If you do go, I'll see you again during summer. Besides, it's probably safer for you."

"Al is right." Hawkeye added "It'll be safer and you won't be gone forever."

"Just keep on top of your research, Fullmetal." Mustang added, determined to maintain his image as Edward's commanding officer.

"You're one to talk." He gestured subtly to the large pile of papers on Mustang's desk, to the side of his right elbow.

"He's right, sir." Hawkeye said as the young Elric brothers left the office with departing messages fitting of their personalities.


	2. Chapter 2

Rubeus Hagrid wouldn't normally consider himself a busy man but the last week or so had unloaded a great abundance of jobs and errands onto his rather large shoulders. He was rushing around the streets, knocking muggles this way and that. He had to collect two students who were unable to make their way to both Diagon Ally and Hogwarts itself. He was late to collecting the first of the two – the famous Mr. Harry Potter.

He couldn't help but pity the boy and the life he lived. He lived with some of the worst muggles Hagrid had ever had the displeasure of associating himself with, and yet there he was. About to make their acquaintance once again. He knew not a thing about their son either, merely his name and the fact that he was as pure of a muggle as his dearest parents. He suspected he would see something of a pig of a boy and see poor Harry – whom he had not seen since early in the boy's infancy – neglected in comparison. The rocking of the boat that was much too small for him was relaxing and also stimulating to his mind.

The hut that sat upon the jutting slab of rock that protruded from the violent, grey waves was small and run down. It appeared dreadfully unfit for human inhabitation, the door looked as though it were going to fall straight off its hinges should the biting and continue to bet at it as viciously as it was for very much longer. The windows opened and closed with clearly audible slams, coordinated with the sound of the waves beating against the rough rock foundation of the building. The wood that formed the structure itself appeared as though it were rotting and the walls were visibly slimy.

It didn't sit right in his mind that, of all the places in the world, the pretentious muggles that had custody over harry would choose this as a temporary residence, regardless of circumstance. Confused, he departed from his boat – which was docked by then – and waded through the water that had accumulated on the rock. He very much doubted that any amount of pounding on the door could draw the attention of one as thick-skulled as the Dursleys, especially over the incessant racket the weather caused outside.

Instead, he made the choice to open the door. However, the old hinges gave way with the extent of force he applied. The door came off in his hands and he just walked into what was now an empty space. There were three rather unattractive people standing ahead of him, another whom he couldn't see tucked into the corner. "Ya gonna need ta fix a'." He informed them before turning to the only boy he could see, with a hint of confusion that he did not allow to show in his demeanour. "Well, 'arry. I've not senn ya in a while, bu' youre a bi' further long I'd a expected, especially roun' the mi'le."

"I-I'm not Harry." A very confused, very scared Dudley Dursley stared up at the giant of a man that stood ahead of him, wording how he could possibly confuse him and his wildly different cousin.

"I'm harry." The boy from the corner called out with an amount of confidence that surprised himself. He wondered how he must appear to this giant, short and scrawny with round, previously broken glasses dwarfing his face and messy hair. He knew he perpetually looked as though he were drowning in an excess of fabric, the clothes that Dudley no longer wore were the only ones he possessed, despite them being a great many sizes too big.

"Of course, ya are!" Hagrid looked at him happily, though that emotion diminished greatly as he heard about the boy's lack of knowledge on the topic of magic, his heritage and the world he was entitled to. In anger, he had lashed out at the son of the monstrosities, sending a curse at him after they disrespected Dumbledore, the man he respected most in the entirety of the wold. The fat pig screeched and squealed as Hagrid brought him loser to a literal pig. A curly pig tail appeared from the boy's trousers and Hagrid took the fuss as a cue to leave with the young wizard he had been sent to collect.

"Hagrid, where are we going?"

"I go' another boy a pick up, then I can take ye both to Diagon Alley."

"Where are we picking him up from?"

"We've go' a bi' of a trip a make, I'm 'fraid. He lives in Amestris."

"Is there no wizarding school in Amestris?" Harry looked up at him with wide eyes from behind the thick lenses of wonky glasses that magnified their appearance.

"There ain' much of a wizar'in' communi'y over in Amestris as far as I'm aware lad."

"Ah. So, what's his name?"

"Edward, Edward Elric."

The small wooden boat drifted slowly away from the little residence that stood solitary in the middle of the ocean. It dipped and bobbed over the crests of a series of foaming waves, drawing closer to land as the sun rose higher into the sky and the grapefruit moon descended beyond the horizon. Harry Potter could think of only one thing – he was free, if only temporarily, from the grasp of his horrible guardians. He didn't even think he could doubt the strange events occurring around him.

Hagrid's hand drifted to the lump in his pocket, the key Dumbledore had given him, and he drew the map from another. It was a train map but it looked like very little more than a series of squiggles drawn haphazardly onto a piece of hastily folded paper that was creased from where it had been shoved into his pocket roughly.

There was very little that he could decipher on the map – he was unsure whether that was him on the map itself – but what he could decipher with distinct clarity was the boldly printed label annotating station in the very centre of the nearly perfectly round country. It said **Central station.** He knew full well that that was his next destination.


	3. Chapter 3

Edward was growing impatient. _0900 hours exactly._ The point had been stressed to him to the point at which he felt as though it had left a physical mark on his brain. First Mustang had made the initial claim of the timing he would need to plan his morning around, and – as much as the two butted heads – that was fair. Al's insistence that he needed to remind him every few seconds the night before and the notes left for him to see as he bustled around the barracks were an entirely different matter, however.

He pulled the pocket watch roughly from his pocket with a sharp tug on the chain. Singlehandedly, he flipped it open, scrutinised the analogue clock face for little more than an instant, and then shoved the heavy, silver pendulum back into his pocket in the same nature in which he had drawn it. The hands of the clock were just ticking forwards, slowly, edging their way towards quarter past. He couldn't hear the ticking over the noise of the large crowd that surrounded him from all directions – these were the times had made him long to be back in his tiny little home town, back in Resembool – and the clicks and groans of his two automail limbs.

Even so, he could assign no blame to the military personnel who had supplied him with that time – they were right, after all, that was when the train carrying this man (Hagrid, was it?) had been due to arrive. He could not accuse his colleagues when the issue that occurred at that moment was merely the case of a poor train driver.

Finally, the loud noise of a steam train coming to a halt filled his ears. The puff of steam and the honk that indicated that passengers were departing and boarding, should the clacking of train tracks and the grinding of the engine not be enough to do so, was accompanied soon by the sound of the feet of busy passengers rushing to the exit of the station. A pair of large feet, many times bigger than that of a normal person, with the addition of a pair of feet – akin in size to his own – wearing old trainers, a fashion very unpopular in Amestris.

"Well," A gruff voice began from well above his head "Yer mus' be Ed." He nodded his affirmation – horrifically reminded of Major Armstrong by the hulking figure – "I'm Hagrid an' this is Harry."

The gargantuan man grinned at the two boys – both short for their age – as they examined each other inquisitively. Emerald eyes stared at gold – both pairs too old to ever truly belong in the faces of the children that held possession over them. To both the other's choice in clothing was beyond strange. Harry stared at the many black items of clothing worn by the other boy as he stared back at the clothes that made him look like one of the illustrations from the book on the history of Xerxes that he had read many years ago – like a slave.

"Hurry along." The giant said – Ed assumed that this was Hagrid – "We ain't go' all day."

Harry nodded meekly and returned to Hagrid's side, not supplying Edward with a single word, of greeting or otherwise, as Edward himself forced himself to answer politely, not knowing how much power the man would have over him "Right away sir." Such a response earned him a rather odd look from both the man on the receiving end of it and the boy who heard it given.

Without a word otherwise they boarded the next train to London – Ed was convinced that the train drivers were teasing him because their late arrival meant that they would have to wait half an hour. There were very few passengers on the train, allowing the trio to fall comfortably into a compartment – completely lacking any and all traces of grace that they may have held previously. Hagrid dominated an entire half of the rather large compartment on his own, leaving the two young wizards to fall on top of each other. It wasn't long before Harry had fallen asleep and Ed was left -wide awake – staring at Hagrid's figure with wide, curious eyes.

"Witchcraft and wizardry?" Ed was surprised to hear the words falling from his own mouth.

"Yes Ed, Witch craf' an' wizardry."

"Explain!" He issued the one word command with the expression and tone that one would expect of the Fullmetal Alchemist after knowing him for all of 5 minutes under ordinary circumstances – snarky and disrespectful.

"Wha's there to explain?" Hagrid's face scrunched up in confusion, his bushy eyebrows lowering and his full beard twitching, no doubt as he moved his mouth to match the expression portrayed on what little was visible of his face.

"A lot." Ed supplied "What do you mean by 'witchcraft and wizardry'? magic is a concept used purely in fiction – children's books and fairy tales – so what could you possibly mean by a school on the topics?"

Hagrid's eyes stared at him with shock clearly displayed on his face – as though he was only just seeing the boy as he was. "The son of Hohenheim don' know a thing?"

Ed scoffed in response. "Clearly, what does the bastard have to do with this nonsense anyway? A little elaboration would be more than welcome right about now."

"Yer father was a wizar' Ed." He intended to continue but was cut off sharply and rudely.

"I'm going to have to correct you. He was an Alchemist and an even bigger bastard than that useless colonel!"

"I'm teliin' yer now, ed, yer father was a wizar' an' yer one too."

"It's impossible!" Edward protested fiercely, trying to convince himself more than Hagrid that the entire idea was utter absurdity. "The world has rules, equivalent exchange – you know, the law of conservation mass? We can neither create nor destroy, we can only alter. It's not magic, it's just alchemy – right?"

Hagrid's face scrunched tighter in further confusion "Alchemy's jus' a dead magic. Yer a wizar', Ed!"

"Alchemy is not magic, the main distinction between the two being that alchemy actually exists!"

"And wha' makes yer say that magic don'?"

"It's completely illogical!" Ed's face was going crimson and his knuckles white as he continued to squeeze his fists tighter.

Hagrid sighed – he was fighting a losing argument – and drew his gaudy, pink umbrella. He pointed it with a flourish to the luggage rack, directly above Ed, and transfigured it – rather simply – into a pile of matchsticks that fell upon his head like rain. He appeared not to notice, he gaped ahead, his mouth hanging open slightly and his eyes visibly less slanted than they should have been. A wave of regret travelled along his voice as his demeanour changed entirely in a single instant, he uttered only a single word but those four syllables carried with them a lifetime of stories that spoke volumes.

"Impossible." Hagrid was sheathing his umbrella, never taking his eyes off the boy as he awaited his next retort. Yet, he received nothing. The boys head fell into his gloved hands and his torso contracted as he drew in a breath much larger than he should have needed. "There's no equivalence. There's no retribution. It could have all be different. Even if it didn't work maybe we could be saved. If only – if only." He muttered desperately into his palms – repeating the last couple of words as though they were a mantra – maybe the only things binding him to existence.

A hand the size of a bin lid landed on his back gently, soothingly. Ed managed to calm himself, gain his composure. He looked at the sleeping boy whose head rested on his right knee and back at the man who had both torn him to shreds and built him back up again in a matter of minutes. Equivalent or not, what he had done was taboo – he would ever repeat it, it should never have occurred the first time around. He should not consider lesser consequences – he fully believed that he had received exactly what he deserved, though the freaky white bastard had been overly harsh on his little brother. There was a hand on his back, someone cared. He may not have his mother anymore- it had been a long time since he had – but he had someone. The boy lounging on his leg was far more accepting but the circumstances that they found themselves in suggested that they both suffered in similar ways. He was merely a pessimist – deathly afraid of change – who needed to change his outlook. He needed to begin tat that moment. Of course, he may still come across a few bumps in the road along the way.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry woke up as the speed of the train increased. "About time." A soft, unfamiliar voice spoke, laden with traces of sleep and partially distorted by the thunderous din of Hagrid's snoring. He sat up groggily and looked at the figure that had spoken. It was Edward – voice so different from the formal one he had used formerly to talk to Hagrid. At some point, he had discarded his coat, now folded neatly to the side of the compartment. The removing of the bright, obnoxious, poppy colour left only black garments on the boy's figure. The high collared, cropped jacket that he wore over his t-shirt, his leather trousers, right down to the thick, red-soled combat boots he wore – it was all black. It had been a matter of minutes but he could already safely say that he preferred this boy to his cousin.

He smiled and retorted "What's with all the black, whose funeral is it?"

"Dunno, I haven't decided yet, neither of yours though." The reply was quick and smooth – Harry couldn't help but laugh.

"God, I's cold in here." Harry commented offhandedly, expecting agreement or disagreement at most in response.

"You can have my coat." The reply was casual as well but a few seconds after without receiving a response himself Ed wen red and wide eyed "Is that a weird thing to say to someone your own age?"

"No clue." Harry retuned as he stood and pulled on the coat, he was he same height as Edward it seemed. He watched as a look of relief passed over Edward's face before a laugh came from him.

"Probably." He confirmed sincerely "But – seeing as it's obvious neither of us know a thing about normality – we'll just have to take the strange as it comes."

Harry agreed "Regardless of weirdness it's a nice gesture." Ed smiled – his smile was unsettling and feral, as though he wasn't sure quite how to use it. He rose to his feet, easily grabbed his case and brought it down, opening it, removing a thick book written in a language that used entirely different characters to the ones he was used to seeing, and returned It to its place in a single, swift movement.

He seated himself cross legged on the floor, his back pushed semi-defensively against the seat he had been sitting on moments before. He flipped the book open and began to read with astonishing speed, hands and eyes moving quickly, completely focused despite the noise Hagrid was creating and the strange looks harry was sure he was sending him.

It was soon after that Hagrid awoke from his own slumber. "Harry! Nice ter see yer awake!" He then spared a glance at Ed "Righ' li'l Ravenclaw this one ain't he?"

"Excuse me, but what's a - Ravenclaw did you say?"

"It's one of the houses a' Hogwar's. Never smar' enough for it me self."

"Oh."

"Well, we better ge' his attention, we're comin' up ter London."

"I – I slept for the entire train ride?"

"Yer di'."

Waking Ed was feat in of itself. In theory, it was simple, speak to him – maybe shake his shoulder slightly – but in practice it was quite the task. His name meant absolutely nothing to him at that moment, nor did the combination of both of them shouting "We're here!" it wasn't until both Hagrid and harry had ran out of ideas that Ed closed his book – appearing to be finished with it – and stood. As he swiftly regained his uncharacteristically stiff posture he stretched, causing a series of resounding pops, that Harry didn't know whether to find satisfying or disturbing, accompanied by an odd mechanical whirring and groaning that neither Harry nor Hagrid could locate the source of. Instead of considering something he knew he would never find the answer to harry decided to opt for a question that he would sure would provide him with a definitive answer.

"You read that book that quickly?"

"Yeah, why?"

"It's just, well – people don't do that. What language is that anyway?"

"Well then, clearly I'm not human. And I forget the English word, I'd call it Xingese – the equivalent to your Chinese, I think."

"You know Chinese?" Harry asked, shocked, as they left their compartment after the train had stopped.

"Among other languages." Edward said carelessly as he hopped down onto the platform at Kings cross station, London, England.

"Wha' did I say? He's a Ravenclaw, ain' he?"

"That better not be an insult." Hagrid's words may not have been an insult but Edward's were most certifiably a challenge.

"No'in' of the sor', Sprout." Hagrid spoke with an amused smile playing at his hidden lips.

"Are you calling me short?" The words grew more challenging still, his eyes growing dark in response.

"No' at all. I'm callin' yer young." He laughed in response.

Then harry came to a sudden, random realisation "Oh, Ed! Your coat!" He saw that the other boy had calmed significantly.

"Keep it for now." He waved a hand dismissively.

"So, Ed, how d'ya like England?"

"It's different from Amestris. I think you've got better technology here."

"I wouldn' know. I know nex' a nothin' about muggle technology."

"Muggle?" Both boys asked.

"Non - magic folk." Hagrid clarified as he led them away from the building.

"Where are we going hagrid?" Edward asked, suddenly realising that he had been told nearly nothing of the situation.

"Diagon Alley o' course!"

"Where and why?"

"Yer need yer school supplies, don't ye?"

"I suppose that you're right. What exactly do we need for wizard school?"

"I've got yer supply lists here." He clarified as he passed them each a piece of parchment, covered in what was clearly handwriting, full of random little ink bleeds and blots.

"Thanks." Both said upon receiving their parchments. They read them - Ed at a superhuman speed once again - before putting them into their pockets roughly.

"Well, le's go boys."

"Yes sir!" Both laughed as they left the station by Hagrid's side - his hulking figure easily clearing a ravine through the crowds and allowing their group to pass with ease.

 **A/N I think the way that this chapter was set out may have gotten a little odd towards the end, I'm sorry it just didn't want to do what it was meant to. Also, I'd like to thank everyone who has reviewed (I reply to all of them but it might take me a while because I run on GMT, not PST), followed or favorited this story, it's my first one so it's really incredible - as is the fact that, according to the traffic graphs, people all over the world are reading this. I probably won't be writing many author's notes, just as a heads up.**

 **~We'reAllABitOdd**


	5. Chapter 5

The building in front of their group was decrepit, old and very much mundane. It was a pub but even the name was unappetising: _The Leaky Cauldron._

"Please tell me that not all English pubs have such _awful_ names!" Ed complained the very second that he caught a glimpse of it.

"Not in surrey but I don't know anything about London." Harry answered.

"This ain' yer normal pub, boys. This is a wizar'ding pub!"

"Muggles and the leaky cauldron? Normal English is fine but what is up with wizarding English?"

"don' know what yer mean, Ed."

"I do." Harry confirmed.

The three walked through the old door, the wood it was made of worn and chipped. There was something chaotic happening within – there was no fight, it was just the atmosphere of the place. The weirdest combination of people that Ed had ever seen – and that was saying a lot – were sitting around a combination of mismatched tables and at the bar. Not one of them was silent – a group of old mean were talking complete gibberish at one table and a group of giggling, teenage witches were giggling about some wizarding celebrity at the next. A nervous looking man with a wonky turban balance precariously on his head looked at them as they made their humble entrance, his eyes wide and his lips quivering.

"The usual I presume, Hagrid?" The barman called out upon witnessing their entrance.

"Not today Tom. I'm here on official Hogwar's business. I'm takin' young Harry and Ed a get their school supplies!"

"Well I never, it's harry potter!" the barman exclaimed. After much unwanted attention that neither Harry nor Ed understood in the slightest their group managed to break through the excited bustle at last.

"Firs' stop, Gringotts." Hagrid declared as they stood in front of a non-descript brick wall.

"But, Hagrid, how do we get there?" Harry asked.

"We go through the wall." Hagrid claimed as he drew the umbrella that both harry and Ed had seen before.

"Your freakish umbrella again?" Ed asked.

Hagrid supplied him with no verbal response, instead tapping the bricks in what was obviously a very specific order. The brick shifted and melted to form a large archway that stretched far above the boys, accommodating to fit even Hagrid's gargantuan size.

The alley that was revealed to them was strange in every sense of the word. There were strange streets, crammed to bursting with strange businesses, being used by the strange people that filed in disorderly from every direction. Knowing which way to look as they waked down these streets was an impossibility, there were shops of the bizarre magical variety in any direction either of the boys could have chosen to look. There were the shops whose physical appearance caught Harry's eyes, an ice cream parlour, the robe shop and the pet shop. Edward was drawn in by the function of each shop that he saw boldly written on the signs displayed on the store fronts as they passed. There was the book shop, towering and full to bursting with shelves and stacks of books that simply would not fit elsewhere, there was the wand shop, ancient and aging still, and there was the apothecary, most would consider the very nature of some of the merchandise available rathe grotesque but Edward merely saw was a chance to experiment.

Of course, the building towering in front of them was a spectacle in of itself. It stood in a way that would cause great many health problems to any architect of the muggle variety. It quite purposely did not stand straight, a great marble structure made of juxtaposing angles, lines and tilts.

Calmly, Hagrid led them up the steps that took them to the entrance of the structure that they had both admired moments ago. As they approached the great doors a gleaming plaque to the side of it captured Ed's attention. It was engraved with a message of warning – a sinister one – that e suspected was to ward off potential thieves. _Gringotts bank_ Ed thought _but how will I withdraw money when I don't so much as know the name of their currency?_

Hagrid appeared to have been able to hear his thoughts – a very disturbing ability that would have been (he was not yet versed in occlumency, you see) – as he drew them up to the withdrawal desk.

"What are they?" Harry asked, looking at the humanoid creatures that worked in the bank.

"They're goblins. They're good with money bu' tricky things they can be."

The goblin manning the desk turn his attention to them, his sinister face warping around his words "Yes?"

"We'd like to withdraw some money from the Potter's vault, Hohenheim vault," a sour look crossed Ed's face and stuck to it, causing a concerned look to appear on Harry's "and," Hagrid's voice lowered "I've got a withdrawal to make from vault 713 at the request of Mr Dumbledore."

"And do the young Mr. potter and Mr. Hohenheim," Ed interrupted with an outraged yell.

"It's Elric!"

The goblin continued as though he had never been interrupted "Have their keys?"

"Hold on, I had 'em here." Hagrid grunted as he dug through his many-pocketed coat with astounding vigour. He unceremoniously dumped out a small pile of stale dog biscuits onto the desk, much to the chagrin of the goblin. "Ah! Go' 'em!" He dramatically drew the two gold keys, dwarfed in his hands that were too big for even his ginormous figure.

He passed them across the desk to the goblin – who was looking far less than amused. That was an indication for them to follow as he led them to a little cart, made of cold metal. As they sat uncomfortably on the cold cart it moved down the antiquated tracks at a truly unimaginable speed.

As they sped down the tracks Harry began to feel rather ill, Hagrid grew progressively greener and Ed's laughs of enjoyment grew steadily louder. The goblin – Griphook – was unaffected and bored looking. With a violent lurch forward they stopped and Hagrid clambered out with no shortage of desperation to his movements. His face was the colour of parchment and his balance was completely off. Harry, too, was unsteady on his feet - his knobbly knees shook underneath his weight. Edward, on the other hand, vaulted elegantly over the side of the cart, still completely balanced. The metallic noise that followed him like a dog could be heard again – there were no longer groans of complaint from the tracks to fill the air.

Griphook opened the vault. Mountains of gold, silver and bronze were piled on top of one another, a few heirlooms and artefacts that must have been many generations old. Harry stared on in shock, the precious metals appeared to shine – it was rather blinding – and he couldn't believe his eyes. He cleaned his glasses and checked again. The sight had not changed one bit. He had never had anything, but at that moment he had nearly everything. It all had changed in that mere moment, harry Potter was not the same boy.


	6. Chapter 6

Once harry had, with much difficulty, loaded what he deemed a substantial amount of money into his pockets (it was, in fact much more than substantial) it was time to depart once again in the hellish cart that had taken them to the first of the three vaults. It drove deeper into the depths of the building at startling speeds that were on a constant incline. They came to yet another jolting stop, nearly throwing harry onto the tracks ahead of him as the speed stopped entirely so suddenly. Hagrid lumbered out, looking greener by the minute, knees knocking together alarmingly. The vault was labelled as number 713, the vault that they had visited at Hagrid's request.

After hearing all that he had about Dumbledore harry was expecting something grand, something incredible, something befitting of the wonder of the magical world. He received something rather different.

There was a single item in the huge metal vault. A tiny object of mundane appearance sitting on the metal in a way that was almost pitiful. It was wrapped in old paper, stained and torn – though not enough to allow him a glimpse of the object that it was concealing.

Edward, also, was confused by the object. It was bot of the grandiose he was expecting either. However, should he wish to continue addressing himself by the title of Alchemist, he had to acknowledge the _unbalance_ of the object in Hagrid's hands. He could practically feel the energy pulsating off it, steady and vital like a pulse. He gripped his hands together, forcing himself not to transmute anything in the surroundings.

Hagrid stowed the object securely into one of his many pockets – one on the inside of his long coat – as Ed continued to stare at the area where it had disappeared to. Subconsciously, harry felt his own hand drifting to the inner pocket of the coat that he had yet to return. It came into contact with a hard, oblong object. A pocket notebook. He resisted the urge to retrieve it and read it, choosing instead to clamber reluctantly back into the cart. Edward tapped his shoulder and smiled awkwardly again – he wondered how the other by was not affected by the rapid movements of the cart – "Took you long enough, Potter." His tone was kind but the smile threw him for a loop again.

The track spiralled into a descent for a final time, travelling at a speed that pulled at all of their skin. They yelled – Hagrid's bellows drowning them all out entirely. Edward's vault was very low into the underneath of the building. Harry could have sworn that he saw a dragon, white and haggard looking yet still vicious. They stopped again, departing at the largest vault yet. Edward opened it with a touch of his hand after being instructed to do so by Griphook.

Mounds of riches were piled haphazardly on top of one another, a sizeable amount of research journals were stacked against the sides. If this was his father's vault Edward's obsessive study habits had suddenly been explained. There was a single photo sitting on top of a stack of journals that stood tall before the door. Edward seemed to be purposely ignoring the photograph. Harry dared to sneak a glimpse.

There was an infant who looked a lot like Edward, a baby who must have been a younger sibling as well as two adults that he assumed to be parents. The woman who held the baby close to her chest looked very content – where was she? – but the man looked grim. His mouth was turned down and his eyes were mourning. The little Ed was smiling in the man's arms, dangling his legs and waving his pudgy baby hands as the man held him at an arms lengths away – as though he couldn't stand the family that was very clearly his (his colouring was shared by the children).

He looked between his new acquaintance – no, his new friend – and the photo taken in his infancy. He couldn't help but wonder about the other people in the photo – the woman looked so motherly that she could imagine her as his own – but the man allowed him to see why Edward rejected his name.

They left after Edward – as well – had stocked up on a beyond – necessary amount of money. As the boy was leaving his vault with quick moving legs he picked up a seemingly random selections of journals and picked up the photo, scrunching it carelessly in angered fists and shoving it roughly into his trouser pocket.

He stormed out, a flurry of black and gold – seeming detached and distant as though his family photo had affected his disposition entirely. Harry followed hurriedly and jumped back into the cart, uncomfortably settling next to the brooding boy as his aura turned black with an amalgamation of negtie emotions.

The ascent wasn't exciting or sickening – it was slow, depressing and dizzying. Edward's eyes disappeared into the shadow of his bangs as he tilted his head downwards, his hands were clenched tightly together – it must have hurt – and the ever-present metallic clicking grew louder and more haunting.

As they clambered out of the cart for the final time the dark cloud settled over them. Edward's family was probably as broken as his own, harry was forced to realise as the boy sulked in such a way that he appeared scary. He walked with a series of clicks, directly to the bookstore. His pace was frightening and he had disappeared into the depths of the shop before harry could comprehend what was happening. the door slammed with a resounding bang and swung a great many time as the bell rang and his boots disappeared.

Harry pulled the comfortable coat tighter around himself, catching the distinctive scents of motor oil, pine wood, fire and electricity. there was something strange about that combination but it didn't seem wrong. However, something very much did. Something was wrong, something was awful. Something was hurting his head, playing at his mind violently...

The Elric's, Hohenheim – what had happened?

 **A/N So I've noticed that there hasn't been a disclaimer in this story yet so I'll write one now - I own absolutely none of the subject material that I am writing about in this fic and do not claim to - it is called fanfiction for a reason.**

 **Also, someone commented on liking the story but pointed out that a few names weren't capitalized and I couldn't reply as they were not signed in so I'll address that now. the positivity is great and I know about the capitalization, my autocorrect is weird and doesn't always pick things up. I'm sorry about things like that but I do try and I have to proof read things myself.**

 **As always, constructive criticism is welcome.**

 **~We'reAllABitOdd**


	7. Chapter 7

Hagrid concluded that he would be rather surprised if the boy didn't end up in Ravenclaw. He had been shaken up by _something_ that he had seen during their brief visit to Gringotts. In that state of disarray his mind had drawn him into the bookshop, deep within the depths of what Hagrid knew to be overstuffed shelves. He supposed it wasn't much of a problem. he had to take the boys into Flourish and Blotts to buy their school books as it was - it wouldn't be too much trouble to try and find Edward in the shop.

Of course, that was easier said than done. The boy was small and apparently rather flexible, he had eventually been found shimmying along the edge of a hanging bookcase, ducking under an abundance of things in an abundance of back-breaking ways.

"Whatcher doin' up there, Ed?" Hagrid had called to the boy.

"I saw a book on the properties," he snagged a book in his gloved hand and easily dismounted the shelf with a smooth somersault "of potion materials and I thought it looked interesting." A solitary glance at the thick, second hand (or second hundredth hand) tome confirmed that the book was not, in fact, written in English.

"You can read that?" Harry asked, thinking back to when Ed had confirmed his multilingualism at the train station.

"yeah, it's just Latin. I flicked through a couple of spell books earlier," harry was sure that their definitions of 'a few' were entirely different "And it looks like the majority of spells are Latin and those that aren't have a basis in it. So, Mr, Potter, I am already at something of an advantage."

"You're more than pretty smart, I'm fairly certain that you've an advantage over everyone in our year." It was settling to see that the surroundings had caused his friend to revert back to himself, Harry noted.

"I wouldn't be so sure. According to Hagrid we're both Halfbloods but we grew up among 'muggles'" he made air quotes with his gloved hands to emphasise the word "So we know about as much as the Muggle-borns would. there are Purebloods who grow up in magical families, they'll already know _something,_ I'm sure." He hugged the dusty tome tighter to his chest, leaving little, dusty lines on his sleeves.

"You'll catch up." harry said, and then - before he could think better of it- he joked "And then you can help _me_ catch up too."

"Tsk, tsk. potter, that's not how this works - equivalent exchange, my friend."

"Meaning what exactly?"

"If I do - by some miracle," Harry thought it wouldn't be much of one, however "Manage to catch up enough to help you I'm gonna need something in return."

"Does the word 'favour' not feature in your vocabulary?"

"It does - but as do a number of other untrue things. You can't receive anything without giving something -it's just the way that the world works."

That was when Hagrid called them over after collecting the books that they needed for their curriculum and telling them to grab anything else that they might want. That quickly proved itself a mistake.

Edward's legs moved at such a speed Harry's eyes had a hard time following them. Something he had no problem following was the metallic noise. He had began to grow used to the noise but it grew louder and longer as he moved around in a manner reminiscent to a monkey. Soon his arms were laden with books -the large number clearly not being what he considered satisfactory - though he relented and agreed that he would not purchase anymore and instead just use the school library when it came down to it. He seemed substantially happier once the word "library" had left Hagrid's lips.

The wizard at the till was both shocked and ecstatic at the large sum of money he received from Ed's extravagant purchase. Harry's new friend was surprising, odd, and he just kept getting stranger. The ease with which Ed carried the mountain of books - definitely a rather ridiculous some of weight upon his arms -was superhuman.

The people in the streets cleared a path for the boy as he strolled along with his arms full of so many books that he couldn't so much as see over them, far from - even his antennae had disappeared. harry shuffled his trainers along the street, staring at his feet as they passed over the cobbles. The squeaks that their worn - down soles were certainly making were disguised by the clomp of an assortment of shoes. Many of said shoes had heels that harry was sure would be torturous to walk over the cobblestones in.

Among their trip two stores stood out. Madame Malkin's was interesting, to say the least. it wasn't so much the shop itself as the way that Edward acted that made the shop so memorable. Edward had protested about being measured and madam Malkin seemed to be trying her absolute hardest to call neither of the two short. that was when he had met the slimy git, Ed had been in the back room collecting his robes when harry met the boy. He was wiry thin and his appearance resembled that of a weasel, his features were pinched and his greasy, platinum hair was pushed back on his head.

The other memorable shop was Ollivander's. Hagrid had disappeared after they entered the wand shop. the building seemed to be falling apart at its very foundations and Ed had to wonder whether the family had been in the wand making business since 382 BC or I that was simply how long the building had stood there. The shelves were filled with thin, leather boxes and more dust than was on Ed's books. The dust on the floor became unsettled under their feet - the noise made by Edward's boots on the hardwood and the ever present squeaking echoed terribly. A man came into the main area from the backroom. he had wild hair and unblinking eyes that were open wide and glazed over. Their shade of pale silver was much in contrast to Edward's unusual gold.

"Mr potter. it feels like just yesterday your parents were in here buying their first wands!" He explained to harry before turning to Edward "And I believe my father served yours Mr Elric! such a long time ago that was! Before the fall of Xerxes, correct?"

"What?" Edward muttered "No living human could be that old and my father certainly wasn't. He is of Xerxian descent, nothing more!" as the man began to measure them. He had held his left hand out and the tape measures were measuring both that and everything else, the distance between his nostrils and eyes as well as the length of his antennae. eventually Ollivander returned with a series of boxes. though he had not quite compensated for the two to be such _difficult_ customers.


	8. Chapter 8

The pile of wands thinned exceedingly quickly, a series of disastrous events triggered by each wave either boy gave. They had communicated that they were to take turns in testing without a single word. The thin, ornate, wooden sticks that were both placed in and snatched from their hands were clearly not the right ones. None of the designs particularly caught Edward's eye and he felt his interest lacking as he looked at Harry. The boy held a wand rather high, a stream of warmth and a glow of the same nature streaming calmly from the tip.

"Curious, very curious." Ollivander declared after explaining to harry that his wand was made of the disagreeable phoenix tail feather.

"I'm sorry, but what's curious?" Harry's confusion played on his features like a moving image.

"The phoenix that gave the tail feather in this wand gave another, _just one other._ That very wand, Mr. potter was the one that gave you this scar. You are destined to great tings Mr. Potter, for You-know-who did great things. Terrible! Oh yes. But great!"

Ed was beginning to believe that he was not, in fact a wizard. Either he was a squib or this entire thing was an elaborate prank. Still, he kept waving the sticks, feeling queasier and stupider by the moment. As he became disheartened Ollivander became excited, entranced by the movement of Ed's arm and the discarded wands that were frequently leaving the gloved appendage. His silver eyes shone, brighter and brighter with every failed attempt at matching a wand to the seemingly peculiar young wizard.

An idea struck him, quite clearly. He jerked physically before racing to the back room and collecting a wand box. The box was the longest and dustiest yet, the leather was old and worn. In a convoluted, drawn out way Ollivander removed the lid. The interior was dark green, velvet – the kind of material that got caught up in the fine machinery of his prosthetics. The wand was long and dark, macabre in ways of decoration – Ed deemed it perfect the instant it appeared in his vision. Th handle was ornate, swirling and slightly silver among what was almost black wood, carved with decorative, gothic imagery.

Ollivander placed the wand in his hand. He tightened his fist around it and wished that he could touch it with the bare skin of his hand. He shifted it into his automail hand and removed the glove over his left before returning it and flourishing it.

The energy the wand emitted was blue, bright blue. Even Ollivader looked at his new customer in shock, again looking at him with widened eyes. His voice pushed through the silence, a raspy whisper that unsettled the first of many layers of dust.

"I seem to have two peculiarities in front of me." He declared "Mr Elric, even your father was rejected by this wand, it is what one might consider a peculiarity. Interesting. Ebony and phoenix feather, 16 and three quarter inches, unyielding. But that is no what is so odd about this wand, oh no. This wand was the only one, dear boy, ever created the man who first created our family business, unfortunately I cannot remember how many years ago that was, he died so soon after the making that he hadn't time to continue his business, even after all of his research, that the family picked up where he had left off. This wand has never found itself an owner and it can become violent in the hands of one who is not fit to wield it. Caution, Mr Elric, take caution."

They handed the money over to the man before leaving with their new wands. Harry watched as Edward picked up his books from where he had placed them by the door upon entering the wand shop. The bell chimed overhead as they left the old shop, returning to its unsettling silence once again soon after.

A loud, deep voice shouted from across the street "Harry! Ed!" Hagrid was stood there, waiting for them with a large object dangling down from either hand. He walked towards the boys as they continued to approach him, it was hardly a difficulty for them to keep track of the man's head in the thicket of the crowd as he stood so high above the rest. Hagrid had to struggle to keep an eye on the mountain of books being held by one of the boys that he was looking after.

"Harry, I got yer a Birthday presen'!" He lifted one of the cages, made of some kind of silver metal. It contained an owl, snoozing peacefully with her elegant head tucked under her wing. Her white feathers were smooth aside from the ones on her head that had become rustled with sleep. Harry stared in unadulterated awe.

"An' Ed! Consider this a welcome a Englan'!" he hoisted the other one, this time made of wrought iron. The owl juxtaposed Harry's entirely. It was wide awake and looking rather disgruntled at the atmosphere surrounding it. Its amber eyes were wide, staring at him as it suddenly calmed. The downy. Black feather that covered the small owl were ruffled and sticking out in every which way, a few of its feathers were a deep, burgundy colour, standing out magnificently against its otherwise black countenance.

"She's beautiful." Both boys breathed at the same time. It was strange to them both, Ed hadn't celebrated his birthday since his mother died and he never had time to partake in the festivals that happened around the country anymore. He didn't receive presents and he was okay with it entirely, however, such an exquisite gift to be given for such a mundane reason was completely overwhelming. Harry never got gifts, at least not decent ones given out of kindness rather than necessity. The gift he held in his hands was just as much overwhelming to him as it was to Ed.

"Close yer mouths, yer gonna catch flies!" Hagrid laughed as he led them through Diagon Alley. He allowed them a visit to Florean Fortesque's on the way out as both boys still had more than enough money to last them the year and get them food on the Hogwarts Express. Harry had ordered himself the largest ice-cream on the menu whereas Ed merely sat down with a drink. The thick, orange pumpkin juice was swished around in his glass bottle before he braved a sip.

"Not bad, wizarding world, not bad at all."

"Why didn't you get an ice cream?" harry asked, confused once again by the boy.

"Milk is disgusting and trying to advertise a dairy product like that _ice cream_ as a treat is wrong!" Ed's declaration was met with such a fierce hatred in his eyes that Harry found it hard to believe that he applied the emotion to _milk._

Soon their trip had ended and Hagrid was tasked with finding them lodgings until the first of September. Harry was sent home to the Dursleys, much to his chagrin, but Ed was a bit more difficult. "We can't send yer back to Amestris, it'd take too long and the only trains over in the nex' few days don' allow animals." Hagrid told him "It ain't ideal bu' how'd yee feel abou' stayin' in the leaky cauldron fer a while?"

Hagrid didn't know, but this was actually an upgrade from where he stayed a lot of the time (some of his missions didn't provide the opportunity to find an inn). Besides, it couldn't be much worse than the military barracks that he would be staying in if he did return home.

"It's fine."

"Great! We'll book yer a room an' send Harry here home!"


	9. Chapter 9

It wasn't the nicest of feelings, bidding your new friend (the only one either had) goodbye before being sent to less than ideal conditions from which you would not see them for a month. Harry had been upgraded to Dudley's spare bedroom but it hardly felt like an upgrade. In hindsight, he felt he should have argued at least a little bit for the opportunity to stay with Ed.

The rooms in the leaky cauldron certainly matched the standard of the food, they were both really rather terrible. There were not, however, a number of subordinates that shared the room, all twenty years his senior.

The bed felt more like cardboard than a mattress and the comforter was scratchy, but it was something. The wallpaper was garish, peeling in precisely 64 places. Ed had grown very bored very quickly. The books he had bought had taken him only a week to speed through and there was very little else to do to occupy his mind after he had read all of the books he brought for alchemic research in another. Thus, he had reverted to counting. 33 rooms in the inn. A daily average of 62 visitors to the pub. 44 butterbeers sold over the two weeks he spent counting. Between twelve o'clock and 1 o'clock on the first Tuesday afternoon 14 witches had passed under his window wearing purple cloaks.

He finally had his own coat back. He had filled the pages with coded notes on several topics, some alchemic and some of wizardry. H supposed it would be a good idea to head down to Diagon Alley and get another, buying a few more books couldn't hurt either.

He brought a little pocket notebook as well as some spare ink (he was speeding through his supply) before heading off to Flourish and Blotts in a run. He rushed through the door to the shop and nearly straight into a plump, ginger-haired woman. She dropped one of the books she was holding: _Gilderoy Lockhart's Guide to Household Pests._ He swooped down, picked it up, gave it back to he and apologised, never once stopping.

"It's okay dear. Why are you in such a hurry" She asked.

He stopped, suddenly "I'm just out of books to read. I'm terribly sorry for making you drop your book."

"Alright. Goodbye dear."

He rushed through the shop and to the till before returning to his room with five new books – he had restrained himself. The books were far more advanced than the ones that he was meant to read as a first year but he had read up until that level within his last batch.

Harry hadn't even picked up one of his schoolbooks. The Dursleys had prevented him from doing so, as they had with his wand and other wizarding possessions, even his cauldron was locked away far out of reach. Dudley's spare room was interesting enough.

There were broken toys stacked from wall to wall that barely left room for a bed and a pathway to it. The only things in the room that were untouched were the books that clueless people had gifted him. Harry had settled with reading them and waiting for the drawn-out month to pass. It had proved an effective way to avoid Dudley and his gang of friends who constantly bullied him throughout the entirety of their primary school years.

Finally, the day came when he was to go to Kings Cross Station. The Dursleys where heading up to London from their home in Surrey that day anyway, to get the awful pigtail Hagrid had gifted Dudley removed. They dropped him off with no consideration at the station and left him to struggle with his heavy trunk alone. Once Hedwig, for that was what he had called his owl, was safely secured on top of the trunk and the trunk itself was placed safely on the trolley he began to search for the platform listed on his ticket. Platform nine and three quarters.

He made the mistake of asking a man who worked at the station where the train was but just got an angry response that suggested that the man assumed he was playing some kind of practical joke. Then he saw something unusual, or someone, that greatly stood out from the crowd.

Ed was stalking through the crowd as they parted around him. The rift allowed harry to rush to his friend's side. It was obvious that the majority of the muggle population of London would like to avoid the punk-ish teenager. He was wearing his red coat again, the material whipping round his ankles in the wind sourced by the incoming and departing trains. Harry couldn't help but think that, while it looked normal and somewhat cool (not that he knew anything about fashion trends) on Ed, he probably just looked like an idiot when he was wearing it. He rushed to his side.

"Hey."

"Oh, hiH. You wouldn't happen to know where the platform is, would you?"

"I was hoping you did." Harry admitted.

"Oh!" Ed yelled as he noticed something, "I walked into that woman in Flourish and Blotts,"

"You bought _more_ books?"

"Only five, it took me two weeks to read the ones I bought and the ones I brought from Amestris. Now listen! That woman will know where the station is, she has children! Let's go ask!"

The woman certainly looked motherly, as such, the two boy's did not feel any traces of nervousness in approaching her.

"Umm, hi."

"Oh, I saw you in Diagon Alley! Do you boys need help going through to the platform?"

They nodded and her grin widened.

"It's no problem, it's Ron's first year too!" She was positively beaming as she gestured to her son, tall and gangly with freckles, red hair, big hands and feet and a smudge on his nose.

"You just have to go through the barrier between the platforms, best to do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous. Percy, you go first." The boy – Percy – confidently strode through what was obviously a solid object with ease. Ed silently began running calculations in his head but could not see a single reason as to why the molecular structure had been altered to allow him to pass.

"Fred, your next." She gestured to one of the twins.

"He's not Fred, I'm Fred."

"Honestly, you call yourself our mother."

"I'm sorry George."

"Only Joking, I am Fred." The boy disappeared through the barrier, followed by his twin. Then harry went, running nervously and squeezing his eyes tightly shut. Ed reluctantly followed suit. He inhaled, pulled his coat tightly around himself, prayed that both he and Onyx (his owl) would be okay, and ran. He kept his eyes opened and halted the moment that he had passed through the barrier, moving to the side so that he could avoid being ran into.

I was amusing to the two orphans, the way that Ron's mother babied him. She got a handkerchief and rubbed at the smudge on his nose until it was red. The teasing from the twins was quite hilarious. Finally, he managed to escape, grumbling as he made his way to the train. Harry and Ed had left a while before, finding themselves an empty compartment towards the back of the train.

By the time Ron had managed to get onto the train there were no empty compartments left, most were completely full. Finally, he found the two boys he had met on the platform.

"Can I sit here? Everywhere else is full."

"Sure."

"Take a seat."

That he did.


	10. Chapter 10

Ron had to admit that his companions were interesting. For starters, one was _Harry Potter!_ He even had the infamous scar. The other was just an interesting person. Edward Elric: foreign, funny, sarcastic, a complete genius. He sat with his feet on the chair, his coat wrapped around his legs.

"God, England is so, bloody cold!"

"It's not even winter yet, mate!"

"I don't care, this is not Resembool! This what it must be like in the North of my country, geez!"

"How big is Amestris? How big would it have to be for the temperature to vary that much?" Harry asked.

"It's pretty big, but it's no Russia."

The door to their compartment slid open, revealing a stout woman with a friendly face and an outfit that was very much the stereotypical epitome of her profession. "Anything off the trolley dears?"

"No thanks, I'm all set." Ron's nose scrunched as he held up a bag with sandwiches inside.

The sweets were not the same as what Ed would buy in Amestris but he didn't want to pass up the opportunity. "I'll take some liquorice wands. Ten?" She handed them over as Ed handed her his payment.

Harry looked around the room and at the money in his hand "We'll take the lot!" He declared decisively.

That was how he found himself sitting among a mound of sweets that Ron looked at longingly ad Ed completely disapproved of.

"You're going to get fat if you keep eating like that." He had warned (Izumi would kill him for the human transmutation, if he completely disregarded his health as well she'd resurrect him just for the chance to do it again.). Harry had ignored him.

"Corned beef." Ron complained "I keep telling her that I hate corned beef."

"That was all it took to convince Harry to invite the boy to join him in his feasting. They both dug into the mound of sweets with vigour. Ron often spoke with his mouth full, explaining to Harry the nature of the assortment of sweets that he was shovelling into his mouth.

"Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans?" Harry had read unsurely.

"They mean _every_ flavour." Ron confirmed "You've got the nice ones like chocolate and peppermint but you've also got ones like liver and tripe. George swears he got a bogey flavoured one once." Ed just looked on in amusement as he ate his liquorice – not all that much healthier than what Ron and Harry were eating but easier to control the number of calories he consumed and, therefore, easier to burn off later.

"Here, have a chocolate frog."

"They're not real frogs, are they?"

"No, it's just an enchantment. Besides, the cards are what you really want."

Harry opened the geometric packaging and watched as the frog hopped. It almost leaped out of the window but Ed caught it before it did.

"They've only got one good jump in them." Ron informed as Ed passed the sweet to Harry. He cautiously nibbled at the head as he pried he card from the bottom of the package.

"I've got Dumbledore!"

"I've got loads of him."

Harry read the information on the headmaster of the school he was heading to before looking at the image. Dumbledore looked on in an inviting manner, moving very slightly in the photograph. Harry looked up at Ron and then back to the card in his hand.

"He's gone!" It was a surprise to the muggle – raised boy.

"Well, you can't expect him to stay there _all_ day."

Of course, with two complete trouble magnets in the same place (The Boy who Lived and the Fullmetal Alchemist) something was bound to go wrong. The unpleasant boy that Harry had met in madam Malkin's strolled into their compartment in all of his weasel-like glory, flanked by two boys who must have been twice, maybe thrice, his size.

"Well what do we have here? Freckles, red hair, I know exactly who you are, filthy blood traitor. Potter, what are you doing with this idiot? And you, you look familiar. The offspring of van Hohenheim, you two could to much better than the Weasley rabble. I'll tell you now that there are two types of wizard and you don't want to be hanging around the wrong type, Potter, Hohenheim."

Harry had a retort on his lips but the look on Ed's face made him hold them for a moment so that he could speak first. "Do not use my bastard father's name. Do not call me Hohenheim, it's Elric. And do not, ever, address me as your equal, scumbag, because I am so much more, just because you worship that dickhead!" Harry's response washed away as the weasel retreated and his cronies advanced. The reached their hands towards Ed, meaty fists ready to hit. The collision never happened. Ed's left hand tightened around one of their wrists as he kicked the other away with minimal effort from his right leg. He punched the boys right hand up and spun him around, moving him effortlessly into a painful-looking armlock.

"Be sure to tell that piece of shit that there are two types of enemy, some are complacent and others act, and he's just made the wrong kind." He growled menacingly in the taller boy's ear before shoving him violently out of the compartment and slamming the door. He flopped backwards onto his seat with a frustrated huff.

"Bloody brilliant." Ron breathed as he stared at the shorter boy with wide, awe-filled eyes.

Ed ran a hand over his braid, pulling it over his shoulder, and opened his eyes. They were less slanted, wide and Aurelian. Completely emotionlessly and wildly unsettlingly they stared directly at Ron, making him squirm slightly in his seat.

"I just saved them from breaking their thumbs. They had them inside their fists. Honestly, if that brat thinks that they're going to be able to protect him I wish him the best – those brutes don't even know how to throw a proper punch."

"You're not normal." Ron stated simply in response.

"Thanks, I feel so loved."

"Hey, no one ever said that not being normal was a bad thing, mate."

"How many examples do you want me to give you of people saying exactly that." He looked bored, eyes half closed, fingers twirling the unbraided end of his hair carelessly.

"Okay, whatever. I only meant that it wasn't an insult!" Ron rushed the words, not really wanting his new friend (for he had already heard from Harry about his exceptional intelligence) to go off on a tangent because of his failed attempts at a compliment.

Harry looked on as Ed had been earlier while he and Ro were ploughing through their sweets and laughed. Eventually the atmosphere became calmer and the three took their seats once again.

Ron was poking his sleeping rat witch the end of his wand as their conversation turned to the topic of magic at long last. "How much of an advantage are you going to have over us?" Edward asked, twirling his new wand with ease in his hand as he spoke "Growing up in a magical household and all?"

"Not all that much, I only just go my wand, same as you two."

"But do you know any spells?" Harry asked, quickly growing very nervous.

"Fred and George told me one the other day to turn Scabbers yellow." He scrunched his nose and scrutinised his dozing pets with unsatisfied eyes. His wand poked the sleeping creature but it didn't so much as stir. He lifted his wand – old and definitely second hand – before clearing his throat and preparing to speak.

Just then the door was hoisted open by a girl who could only be in their year as her robes did not yet display the emblem of her house. "Have you seen a toad?" she sounded slightly out of breath as if she had been rushing around the entire train in search of this pet. She pushed back her bushy hair with the hand that was not resting on the door as the boys answered.

"I'm sorry, we haven't." Harry told her.

She changed her attention to something entirely different the very moment that she received that response "Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see then."

Ron cleared his throat and inhaled deeply in preparation once again "Sunshine, daisies, butter, mellow. Turn this stupid fat rat yellow!" Scabbers did not turn yellow but he did finally wake up as a spark of magic energy travelled from the wand and directly onto his tail.

"Are you sure that's a real spell? Well it's not a very good one, is it? I've only tried a few simple ones myself but they've all worked."

Ed couldn't help but agree "Same here." The girl had turned to leave but changed her mind "Ron, let me try." Ron was not reluctant to hand Ed over the rat.

He pointed his long, dark wood wand at the rat and spoke one simple, confident word "Colovaria." Another shock ran through the rat, this time followed by a ripple that changed its fur from the mundane grey it was before and into bright yellow.

The girl beamed widely at him, exposing her buck teeth. He smiled back, exposing his feral canines. He extended his left hand, feeling she was about to do the same with her right "Edward Elric." She was slightly confused by the hand that he had led with and took a moment to adjust her movement but did not allow her smile to dissipate.

"Hermione Granger." She shook his hand before withdrawing and looking at the other two boys who were staring at their blonde friend in shock. "And you are."

"Ron Weasley." He had a chocolate frog stuffed hastily inside his mouth.

Her nose scrunched up and she spoke a sarcastic word "Pleasure. And you?" The last was merely a curiosity.

"Harry, Harry Potter."

"Oh! I know who you are! I've read all about you in _Notable Wizards of the Twentieth Century._ "

Harry was taken aback, he suspected that this girl knew more about his life than he did. "It was weird seeing your name crop up." Ed admitted. As, apparently did Ed.

"Anyway, you should really change into your robes, we'll be there soon." She departed with a wave and Ron fell heavily onto his back similarly as Ed had done after his encounter with Draco Malfoy and his cronies. Ed left to change in private – the metal limbs were not something that he wished to explain this early into his friendship with the two boys – as Harry and Ron drew the curtain over the translucent door.

Ed returned with his robes on, his hair a mess and his features pulled into a tight scowl. "Why," He growled "Do we have to wear these shitty ties?"

Harry and Ron merely laughed, despite the fact that Edward's was tied impeccably and neither had a clue as to how to tie their own.

 **I hope everyone agrees with the wand that I gave Ed and the story behind it from previously. Also, yes, Colovaria is a real spell. I have been consulting Pottermore and the Harry Potter wiki to keep this as accurate as I possibly can while maintaining the balance between the two universes I'm combining. As always, I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter, thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, followed or favorited. I love reading your reviews and reply to any that I can (I can't reply to guest reviews). Constructive criticism is always welcome and I'll try to act on any that anybody happens to have. If you have any theories or ideas I love reading them and may use a few. Thanks again.**

 **~We'reAllABitOdd**


	11. Chapter 11

It wasn't long after Ed had laughed at the boy's expense but grudgingly tied their ties in the way that Riza had insisted upon teaching him that the train stopped. Hagrid was yelling "Firs' years! Firs' years!" As students flooded out of the train. The older students continued down a pathway and the first years flocked at Hagrid's feet. Their group left and joined the others, Harry and Ed yelling to catch the man's attention.

"Harry, Ed! Good ter see yer both again!" He yelled over the noise created by the crowd of chattering eleven-year-olds that grew by the minute. They grinned as the crowd finally began to move around them. They were crowded to the edge of the lake, the water itself was dark and, though it was clean, you'd be stretched to attempt to see beneath the surface.

"Four ter a boat!" Hagrid's voice boomed over the noise. They all rushed to the little wooden boats that were lined up along the shore and hastily climbed in. Harry found himself squashed next to Ed, Ron and Hermione. The boy that Hermione had been with, Neville, had nervously clambered in besides Hagrid, looking about ready to cry, because there was no room left in any of the others.

The water was calm, the boats rocking ever so slightly as they passed over. It was hard to see because of the unnaturally dark colour of the water but it appeared as though there was a tentacle passing along, at least seven-foot-long and uncomfortably close to surfacing. Ed watched calmly as Ron tried to huddle in the middle of the boat, scared of falling in. The ever-present metallic noise only scared him further.

Finally, they drew into the shore, right in front of the grand castle that would soon be their school. The towering turrets, ornate windows and extensive grounds that stretched far beyond their view were completely awe inspiring. As they were led inside the building it appeared as though a few people were trying to unscrew their heads from the necks, attempting to look around their new, beautiful surroundings with wide eyes, failing to absorb it all at once. They were halted in front of a staircase, the appearance of which entirely fitting the atmosphere surrounding them.

A stern looking woman was stood towards the top of the staircase in waiting. Her emerald roes fanned out around her slim figure and her hat elevated her eight to a greater extent than Ed's boots usually elevated his own. Her arms were crossed in front of her chest and he stern features were being lifted by the tight way in which her black hair was tied back.

She welcomed them to the school with a thickly accented, important-sounding voice- it was rather obvious that she was from the local area. Once she told them the events that would follow their entrance into the great hall it was all that Ed could do not to laugh as Ron grumbled, "Bloody Fred and George! They were on about having to wrestle a Troll!" the old woman span swiftly on the heel of her boot and disappeared through the door with promises of returning.

Malfoy slunk through the crowd and stood at the front, on the first step, just in front of Ed, Ron and harry. "I was saying earlier, there are two types of wizarding families, you don't want to be making friends with the wrong sort, Potter." He held a hand out.

"I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks." Harry said, watching the cocky grin that had dominated Malfoy's face dissipating in a mere moment. He looked about ready to retort but the woman made a re-entry. She tapped him on the back and sent him back into the crowd.

Harry quickly became very nervous, attempting to flatten his nest of hair in an unsuccessful attempt to appear more presentable to the school. He straightened his glasses and attempted to ready himself for what was about to happen. Ed was pulling at is gloves, making sure that they were both secure and hidden from the old woman's (McGonagall's) sharp eyes.

They filed into the great hall unsurely, all but Ed and Hermione looking up at what seemed to be a vacancy where the ceiling should be. "It's not really the sky." They both said to their awed classmates "It's just an enchantment. I read all about it _Hogwarts, a History._ " McGonagall clapped her hands, instantly silencing the people in the hall, and introduced the prospect of the sorting. The hat that sat on the stool in front of her appeared to be sentient as it opened a rip near its base and sang, flat but impressive none-the-less, for it was a singing hat. It sung about the nature of the houses and its profession before silencing and receiving a deafening round-of-applause from the students who were crowded around four long tables.

The first to go was "Abbot, Hannah." Who was swiftly sorted into Hufflepuff after very little deliberation and a single, yelled word. The table under the yellow banner beat their hands together in celebration, beaming at each other and their newest member. Most were sorted rather quickly, though not instantly, until a name was called.

"Elric, Edward." Ed strode to the stool, ignoring any and all comments on his hair, and sat. the hat was placed on his head. It slipped over his eyes and began a discussion that seemed to happen exclusively in the interior of his head.

 _Are you a soul bound to this object?_ Ed asked internally, hoping to transmit the strongly disturbing theory to the being that was invading his mind.

 _I am not, though I do not remember what I am. I have been the way for a millennium, there was a time I sat upon the head of one of our founders, though now I sit on the heads of new students. That's a rather interesting theory though. Would you happen to be versed in the ancient art of alchemy?_ The hat responded.

 _You could say that._

 _Well, let's see where to put you boy._

It was at that point that people began to stare at him, the short boy with the long, gold hair and the startling eyes, the boy who appeared unidentifiably familiar to many who were raised in wizarding families, they had never heard the name Elric but they had seen the face that the boy possessed.

 _You're a rather difficult one, aren't you? Smart beyond even dear Rowena, cunning beyond even Salazar, brave beyond even master Godric. Now where should I place you? Like minds will not exist, you are destined to exclusion regardless of my choice. I'm afraid I'll have to look a bit closer._

 _Oh! I see, such a strong determination, such a cunning deliberation. I see it now._

The presence faded from Ed's mind and he felt the ugly lump of fabric shift upon his head as it prepared to deliver the label that it had provided him with.


	12. Chapter 12

"Slytherin!"

The word resonated around the hall for a moment, plunging it into silence. Draco was shocked stiff that the brat could be placed in _his_ house. Both harry and Ed watched as time slowed down and what Ron had told them on the train ride replayed in their minds. Slytherin was not a place in which either wanted to be. Ron's look shifted between disappointed and disgusted, periodically altering into surprise. Hermione wasn't sure what to think, the smart boy was probably going to be her enemy, she wanted to be in either Gryffindor or Ravenclaw, one of which promised rivalry.

Then the spell broke and raucous cheering, hollering and clapping broke out among what was going to become Ed's house. His real hand shook as he lifted himself to his feet and removed the hat from his head. He replaced the hat on the stool and walked over to his table, feeling dizzy and nauseous as he forced his legs to move.

He heavily took a seat at the table, not noticing that it was next to the boy whom he had roughly thrown from a train compartment a few hours prior. The boy shrunk in on himself as Ed stared at his gloved hands, completely oblivious to the hard, congratulatory slaps on the back he received from the elder students.

"Granger, Hermione." Was called soon after and she was sent, after some deliberation, to Gryffindor. She sent one last fleeting look at Edward before she took her own seat, smiling at the people around her and getting herself integrated into what would serve as family during her time at the school. Ed felt it would be the smartest thing to do in the situation and followed her example.

He looked upwards and turned to the boy next to him, suddenly registering his identity.

"Sorry about earlier," He hoped desperately that it didn't sound like such a blatant lie as it was "I'm Ed, you?"

"Vincent Crabbe. I've never heard the name Elric before, are you a filthy little mudblood?"

Ed hid the fact that his blood was boiling, both at the insult to his stature and the use of the slur he had come across in his readings "I'm a halfblood, I just took my mother's last name."

"It's better than being a mudblood, I s'pose." Crabbe relented.

"Greggory Goyle." It was the boy behind Crabbe that spoke, the one that Ed had kicked "Didn't Draco call you Hohenheim?"

"Unfortunately. To quote William Shakespeare 'Deny thy father and refuse thy name.'" He was met with looks of confusion that made him feel as though he was losing some of his own intelligence.

"Malfoy, Draco." It took less than a second -the hat had only toughed the tip of a stray hair – for the hat to declare that the boy belonged in Slytherin. He smiled smugly and sat by Ed. "Now, allow _me_ to show _you_ the wrong sort." There was something about the boy, the way cadence he used to convey his message, the expression on his face, the words that had escaped his lips, that was deeply disturbing.

Many students passed, Ed ignored the lot of them, anticipating the moment that the names 'Potter, Harry' and 'Weasley, Ron' would be called and the boys that they belonged to would be sent to Gryffindor and, by default, become his enemies. He was used to not having friends, but not having his brother there either was becoming much more upsetting when he realised that he wouldn't have anything that even came close to a companion.

"Potter, Harry." Was met with excited whispers and disbelief by everyone who had not already talked to him. McGonagall remained composed as she dropped the hat over his head and waited. Harry feared the outcome, the way that the hat suggested he join Ed in Slytherin. He liked Ed, though he did not like the house he was sorted into or what that suggested about the arts of the boy he didn't know about. Eventually he was sorted into Gryffindor, pulled away from Ed just as the blonde had predicted.

The same was true of his predictions for Ron. The second the hat knew of the boy's family it sent him straight to Gryffindor to be among his brothers. The twins jumped on him and began joking around as Ed had quickly realised was characteristic of them. He didn't know how to feel about the fact that he could hear "Ickle Ronniekins." Above all the noise that surrounded him.

Finally, the old man whom he had seen on the card harry had received from his chocolate frog approached a podium, made in the image of a bird of prey – probably an eagle. He cleared his throat and drew the crowd to silence just as quickly as McGonagall had. He gave a speech, short as he acknowledged that the students were awaiting a meal, ending it eth two odd words that Ed was sure had been spawned directly from the man's head. He and Harry, though not knowing the thoughts of the other, decided that the man must be crazy.

Food appeared on the table in front of them, foreign to Ed who looked at the spread in overwhelmed confusion – though he was completely desensitised to the magic that caused it to appear after talking to a hat and walking through a solid barrier. Malfoy scoffed. "What's wrong?"

"This food's all foreign and I haven't a clue here to start."

Malfoy laughed, only just picking up on Ed's accent "The food's not foreign, you are."

"You're right there, but it doesn't help me."

"May I recommend the roast chicken? With Dumbledore as headmaster the school's certainly doing down the drain, in fact, he food is one of the few things that is not." Ed hated the way that he talked about the headmaster and the fact that he shared the brat's sentiments about the food. The British food certainly was not on par with his mother's stew but he enjoyed it far more than any food he had consumed since – not that he'd ever tell Winry that he had found something better than her apple pie. He ate what he could, though that was substantially less than what he usually would due to the growing unease he felt in the pit of his stomach.

Finally, both the dinner and the desert had disappeared in the same manner to which it had appeared and Dumbledore spoke again. He shared warnings with the masses, directing many quite specifically to the Weasley twins (Ed couldn't help but to like the two). It was clear that the warnings were standard procedure until he lowered his voice to speak a final one.

"And to all those who do not wish to die a painful death, avoid the third floor." Then he brightened and instructed the students to follow the prefects of their respective houses to their common rooms. Th four tables stood in a disorganized manner with a variety of different timings that Ed was sure would make many of the people he knew from his workplace cringe or yell in despair. The four group of students emphasised the divide between each other as they flooded from four entirely different exits that led in four entirely different directions, towards their four entirely different common rooms.

Ed just watched as those who had been friends just moments before but were now, most definitely, not so much as acquaintances left together, not sparing him a glance, a wave, nor a word. He returned the favour as he followed his housemates down into the depths of the castle.

He felt the temperature plummet and what little optimism he possessed do the same until it hit the ground and shattered into a million, irreparable fragments that would never again mean anything or do anything for him nor anyone else. He could already feel the cold and the damp biting at his ports. It merely cemented something that he already knew. He was going to be positively miserable.


	13. Chapter 13

It appeared that Onyx very much shared his opinions on the lodgings. The dungeon was not ideal to either of them. The owl was unsettled in her cage, flapping her wings and ruffling her messy feathers more. Her amber eyes were angry, looking at him from beneath what could only be considered the equivalent of eyebrows.

"You want to come to the owlery with me? I'm going to send a letter of complaint to my father, that senile old bat letting in harry Potter? He's a loose cannon that one!" Ed was really growing tired of hearing the boy talk but was well aware that he couldn't voice his complaints or violently display his displeasure without serious repercussions that would only serve to greatly disappoint his precious little brother. Instead he chose to follow, a letter to Al already written and stuffed into the large pocket of his cloak. He picked up the owl's cage and admired the dark decorative theme of their common room and dorm. He may not have like the location or his companions but he could certainly appreciate the imagery the room provided and the way that it perfectly matched his wand's countenance.

The stairs proved to displease Onyx further (Ed decided that the sheer number of them would make them useful to integrate into a workout regime) but the moment that they were on flat ground she seemed to bask gloriously in the sunlight pouring in through the windows. The warmth made Ed feel the same way internally, the slight pain that had begun at his ports faded as the temperature (the very same he had complained about the coolness of earlier) warmed both him and the unfeeling steel attached to him.

He walked in silence with Draco, wishing that they could reach the owlery sooner as the silence became uncomfortably palpable. The halls were relatively quiet, though it was not yet curfew, presumably because people were reuniting with their friends, making new ones, becoming used to their surroundings, and unpacking.

The bareness of the halls allowed him to keep track of Draco's movements so that he could follow him from a fair distance. "So, Elric. What's that owl's name?"

"Onyx, yours?" That was the extent of their conversation, Draco answered and they were plunged into silence once again. The only sounds surrounding them were the noise of their shoes squeaking and the metallic creaking that Malfoy didn't dare question.

As they neared the owlery the crowds grew, very few students were milling around but it was a sizeable increase from just the two of them walking alone. The thin crowd provided white noise that stopped Ed and Draco from feeling obligated to converse with one another.

The walked into the owlery, attracting the attention of a few owls. Once the notes were tied securely around the legs of their respective owls they sent the owls off to deliver the letters. Ed watched as Onyx flew away, he watched the movement of her wings and her gradual decrease in size, he watched until he could watch no more, until she was merely a speck, and until she had completely disappeared from view.

He and Malfoy left together, returning to the common room in a similar manner to that in which they had left. Once they reached the common room, the cold of the dungeon already saturating Ed through to the bone and biting at his ports, they went straight to the dorm that they shared with Crabbe and Goyle as well as two boys called Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini who Ed had yet to meet.

Eventually, two other boys joined them in the room. One had dark skin, eyes and hair. He did not so much s pause to socialise with the rest of the group, instead choosing to fling himself directly onto one of the four poster beds – thus claiming it as his – and drawing the green curtains sharply to a close. The other had brown hair and was not much tanner than Draco. He joined their group on the floor, sitting cross legged next to Ed (he was less than pleased with the seating arrangement as he was sandwiched between the new boy and Draco). He scrutinised him with squinted eyes, a mean smirk playing at his lips "You look familiar, but I've never heard of the name Elric."

Malfoy looked back, grey eyes void of emotion, and relayed a simple fact "He's a halfblood, he just uses his mother's name. This is the son of Van Hohenheim.

That was a revelation that was met with a fair bit of surprise "Van Hohenheim? _The_ Van Hohenheim?" At Ed's nod of confirmation more questions arose "Van Hohenheim married a muggle?" The cadence used was incredulous and the question itself made Ed nervous.

"Not married, no." He hated the answer, he hated the question, he hated the man whom he was being interrogated about. At that moment, he hated his companions and the looks on their faces, the way that they were crowding him and the whispers of disbelief that they passed to each other.

"The bastard child of Van Hohenheim? Still better than being a mudblood."

Ed didn't think it was. He thought that the slur was disgusting and that there was absolutely nothing wrong with being a wizard or witch born from muggles. He thought that associated with Van Hohenheim was absolutely one of the worst things to be. He, again, didn't say a thing.

"I'm going to the library." Ed declared as he rose to his feet.

"What, did you not get your school books or something?" Theodore asked.

"I did. I read them. I read the extra books I bought too. Thus, I need to go to the library." His tone was monotonous and he was halfway through the door by the time he had finished responding. The door slammed to a close as Ed made his way down the stone staircase that led to their common rooms. His dormmates just stared at the doorway as his gold braid disappeared with a sharp whip around the corner and the heavy door closed after.

"Okay, but why does he have his hair so long?" Crabbe broke the silence.

"His father did too, Lughead." Draco told the boy as he picked up his potions book and began to troll through the pages lazily.


	14. Chapter 14

Ron and harry had shovelled their food down their throats before sending a single, fleeting look at Ed. They had then disappeared among the crowd of Gryffindors. Gryffindor tower was well lit and comfortable; however, Ron was not overly happy about having to share a common room with Hermione Granger. The common room was spacious and cosy, warmed by a blazing fire and full of squishy chairs and happy students. The red and gold were warm – though they were a painful reminder of Ed's distinctive colour theme.

Their dormitory was decorated in a similar nature, with five four poster beds fanned out against the walls. Their roommates were already all there by the time that they had arrived. One was Hermione's acquaintance on the train, the chubby, uncertain looking boy whose robes were fastened very much incorrectly. The other two were new faces, though friendly ones. One boy was dark skinned, smiling broadly throughout the entire conversation. Said conversation was held as the boys all sat on their respective beds. The other new boy was fairly plain in appearance, dark hair and fair skin, though his accent quickly distinguished him from his roommates. "Me dad's a muggle, me mam's a witch. Nasty shock for him when he found out!" they were easily integrated into the conversation once the boys had gotten used to the fact that they were holding a casual conversation with the Harry potter that they had grown up hearing about.

Ron and Harry found out that their roommates were called Neville, Seamus and Dean. Those who had grown up among muggles couldn't help but laugh at Ron's reaction to the Westham poster that had been proudly stuck to the wall. The way that he pocked the image with narrowed eyes, waiting for it to move and complaining when it didn't was rather hilarious. His reaction to their explanation of the sport – football (soccer) – was just as hilarious.

It did not take long for their group to plunge the once spotless dorm room into a state of complete disarray. It appeared that their version of unpacking was just haphazardly flinging things across the room. Thy had also gotten a large amount of wizarding sweets from Seamus' trunk. His mother had told him to bring them to share with his dormmates. Harry doubted that she had intended for them to eat them all in a single sitting, however. As they laughed their various[df1] pets seemed to join the various festivities, the owls were hooting excitedly as Scabbers just slept on the foot of Ron's bed.

"Bloody useless rat."

Hermione had immediately made a departure for the library, she supposed she could read in their until closing and check out a few books as she left. The solitary journey provided her with the chance to admire the spectacular decoration of her new school building. As she marvelled at the moving picture and the height of the ornate ceiling she could only hope that she wasn't dreaming, that she wouldn't wake up in her twin bed in the house belonging to her dentist parents.

It took her a while longer than it should have but she eventually found the library. She walked in and ogled the many shelves that lined the room and the multitude of books that were piled up on the librarian's desk and at the end of the isles. She breathed deeply, soaking up the smell of the books that surrounded her. The librarian looked at her as she walked in, her glasses sitting low on her nose and her face permanently displeased.

Hermione disappeared into the first isle and began to look through the books, picking up a few that caught her attention. She felt her arms become heavier and knew that she would have to be more selective with her reading choices. Then she came across who she suspected to be the only other student in the library at that point in time.

"Ed!" She spoke in an excited whisper to the boy as he sat within a mound of books. "Ed?" She continued to repeat his name, never once drawing a response. She began to suspect that he was purposely ignoring her, due to the rift between their houses. It was a last resort when she tore the book from his hands, noticing that he was blatantly disrespecting the uniform by keeping his gloves on.

His eyes flickered across the empty space for a moment before his eyebrows weaved together. He looked up and at his surroundings, the look in his eyes softening when he had seen the girl that had stolen his book. Hermione spared a glance at the book that was dangling from her hand. She couldn't read a word of it and there was no illustration on the cover to hint at the subject material.

"Latin?"

"Oh, hi Hermione. Yeah – I've already explained this to Harry but magic has the majority of its basis in Latin."

"I realised that, too. But you speak Latin?"

"I speak a few languages." Edward told her "I'm quite fortunate that I do really, I'd have no clue what any of you were talking about otherwise."

"Oh! Of course! Your accent really isn't very noticeable, where _are_ you from?"

"Amestris. Isn't there some kind of unspoken rule that we shouldn't be talking? The old house rivalry and all?"

"If you really care that much about it I'll leave you alone!"

Ed only laughed at her indignant tone "That wasn't what I meant, my house is full of bigots. I merely meant that you're probably going to make yourself unpopular among the Gryffindors for fraternising with a Slytherin."

"We'll see. Do you want to have breakfast at the Gryffindor table with me tomorrow?"

"Is that allowed?"

"Technically, yes. I've been talking to the Gryffindor prefects. But it doesn't often happen. If it's going to cause too big of a problem for you among your housemates you're under no obligation to come, I completely understand." She began to walk away.

"I'll be there!" As she left there was a smile on her face. Edward's was the same – a friend who would actually be kind to him at this school. Things had just drastically improved, even if he had lost his good connections to Ron ad Harry.

* * *

[df1]


	15. Chapter 15

Hermione woke up early the next morning. The second that the sun was up she as bustling around the room and thanking her luck that the other girls in the room were all heavy sleepers - if not she would have woken each five times over. She couldn't help but think that she'd invited a boy whose very aptitude seemed to signal that he was a rival to join her at breakfast. The nerves that had made an acute appearance before grew and the knot that they formed in her stomach tightened exponentially. She had picked up a book, not knowing what time Ed would come to breakfast and wishing that she had arranged an exact time for their meeting.

As she found her way down the stairs she was fully ready to be met with the vast barrenness that was surely characteristic of the great hall at such an early hour. She was certainly not wrong. There were about ten people on the Gryffindor table, a few more at the Ravenclaw one, about three at Slytherin's and absolutely none on Hufflepuff's. Three of those gathered around her house table were very familiar faces. Percy Weasley and the younger Weasley twins were sitting at the far end of the table, surrounded by a fair few odd materials that she was sure were the possessions of the twins. She could hear the voices of Fred and George echoing around the hall and had to supress the urge to giggle as she approached and saw Percy exhale and place his head in his hand none too lightly.

Ed wasn't yet there so she took a set along side the Weasley siblings, grabbing a roll as she passed the plate that they rested on.

"Hello Hermione."

"Hello Percy."

The twins were very much absorbed in the plethora of strange materials that sat alongside them at the table. "I heard that you invited the blonde Slytherin boy that we met on the platform to breakfast?"

"Where did you hear that?" She was rather taken aback by the fact that he knew, though she was comforted by his nonchalant tone.

The paintings like to talk - Sir Cadogan is a _terrible_ gossip."

"Oh." That was all that she could say as she heard the doors creak open - she couldn't help but think that their rather immense weight was somewhat asinine amongst a group of children who were required to partake in a very small amount of physical activity. It didn't take long for them to slam closed and the room to be plunged into near silence once again. the very quiet chatter left her plenty of room to hear the strange, distinctive, metallic noise that she was certain could only mean one person had made an entry.

"Ed!"

"Oh, hi Hermione. I'm surprised that you're up this early."

"Same to you."

"Oh? I've just been jogging around the grounds, passing along the edge of that forest really lets you know why professor Dumbledore considers it forbidden." as he continued to approach her she couldn't help but notice the way that he blatantly disregarded the dress code. He had white gloves o his hands still and his shoes were certainly not the ones he had been wearing in library the day prior. he had swapped them out for the heavy boots he had worn on the train and seemed rather confident in his decision to do so.

He took a seat beside her and snuck a glance at the book that she had placed on the table, slightly to the side of her.

"Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them? have you not read through this yet?"

"No, I haven't. I had a lot of school books to read, too little time and a massive shock to the system when I got the letter."

"You're muggleborn?"

"Yeah. You aren't, are you?"

"Nah. I'm a halfblood but my wizard father left so I grew up just as clueless bout everything a you did. I'm a scientist - I still think I might be dreaming."

"He _left_?"

"He's a bastard who clearly didn't give a shit about us - I can't say much else about him."

"Oh."

"Hello Edo." Fred and George sensed the tense atmosphere settling around the first years and made the choice to intervene "What's a Slytherin doing at our table?"

"You'd rather I left?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Nah, you're okay." Ed didn't know which had spoke, though it was the first time he had heard them speak alone that day, for they were identical down to the very last detail.

"I heard Scabbers turned yellow?"

"That dud spell we gave Ron would've never worked."

"Would you know anything about it?" The way that they spoke with alternating roles sounded rehearsed.

"You know the spell 'Colovaria'?"

"We do, but why would a first year and how would you get it to work?" Their synchronised manner of speech didn't so much as falter as they looked on in surprise.

"I don't know. But there _is_ a thing called reading, those books definitely help."

"Fancy helping us with our homework?"

"Fancy decoding some research notes my brother gave me before I left?"

One snorted amusedly, the other supplied a verbal answer "Hardly."

"Well then. You have yourselves your answer."

"Rotten little brat."

"Little?" Ed's face was cast into shadow and his voice lilted in a disturbing way. His hands tightened round his cutlery, noticeably warping the metal.

"No, no."

"Not little,"

"Just younger than us!" The last declaration was spoken in their typical unison as the Ed's cutlery bordered on breaking.

"Good." They were greeted by his typical, animalistic grin. He calmly straightened out his cutlery and went back to eating his breakfast.

"British food is really weird." He declared, much as he had done at the fest before.

"I suppose it would be. It's unfamiliar isn't it?" Hermione reclaimed the conversation.

"Very." Ed confirmed as the hall began to fill with a few more students. He checked is pocket watch, drawing Hermione's attention to the visible chain she was surprised she hadn't noticed previously. Sure enough, the hands were just beginning to tick past the very hour of seven."

"Oh! Hermione, who's this?" The voice was sickly sweet and unfortunately familiar to the girl to whom the statement was addressed.

"Oh. Lavender, this is Ed. Ed this is Lavender."

Much as Hermione had been, lavender was caught out by the fact that the young Slytherin offered his left hand but took it anyway.

"Edward Elric."

"Lavender Brown. You'll have to do my hair for me someday. You're a Slytherin, right? Rebel!" She drifted off, giggling incessantly as she re-joined her friends and holding her left hand to her chest.

"Is she your roommate?"

"Yeah." Hermione's reply was rather downtrodden in tone.

"I'm sorry."

 **A/N - I'm sorry that it's been so long since I updated, my wifi was waging war on me. This story is neither on hiatus or discontinued. Sorry again for taking so long.**

 **~We'reAllABitOdd**


	16. Chapter 16

Breakfast was nearly over by the time harry and Ron had hurriedly arrived, shirts buttoned incorrectly and ties hanging loose around their necks. Ed had left for his own table as the masses arrived, saying that he would need to receive his timetable and hoped Hermione shared a few of his lessons. He also made the promise to meet her later in the library before leaving.

Ron sent him an evil glance "That Slytherin git turned Scabbers yellow." he commented.

" _You_ were trying to turn him yellow." harry returned.

"I know, but he was obviously just trying to tell me he's better than me. There's not a single wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin and I don't trust that there was ever a particularly good one."

Hermione, who happened to be sitting close by as Ron spoke badly of her new friend, let out an annoyed huff that motivated the boys to move away to continue their conversation. McGonagall was making her way around the Gryffindor table with the time tables as Harry and Ron began to eat. Hermione couldn't help but find amusement in observing the disgust portrayed on Lavender's face as she watched the mountain of food in front of the youngest Weasley boy shrink rapidly.

After reading her own timetable she sent a glance over to the Slytherin table to find Ed. He looked less than pleased to be squashed between Pansy Parkinson and Greggory Goyle, the two large Slytherin first years dwarfing the petite one. The stern looking man, shrouded in black robes that shielded his pale skin, that was the head of Slytherin passed along the table and passed each Slytherin their timetable. Hermione was both excited and anxious about the fact that her first lesson was potions with the Slytherins. On one hand, she didn't like the look of the potions teacher(she was aware that he was the man who gave the Slytherins their timetables) and she knew that most of the Slytherins would not take kindly to her blood status. On the other hand, however, Edward would be in her first class. Maybe they could share a desk? She was certain that that would get on Lavender's nerves.

Edward wasn't much enjoying the company he was in. Draco sat across from him in all his snide glory, talking to the group as if they were his subordinates (Ed reckoned he would make a worse colonel than even Mustang) and had done something majorly wrong. "Why are you wearing gloves? Those boots aren't uniform either." Draco commented on Ed's disregard of the uniform.

"Doe it matter?" He replied irritably.

"Not at all. It's just nice to see someone disobeying that Dumbledore, my father does say that he was the worst thing ever to happen to Hogwarts."

Ed couldn't quite explain it but something in that statement made him angry, maybe it was the fact that the man was an acquaintance of the original creator of the philosophers stone: Nicholas Flammel. he stood sharply ad left without a word, feeling both Draco's eyes and Hermione's following him. Then there was the addition of Hermione's footsteps that came soon after she made the excuse of anting to go to the library for a while before first period started.

Hermione ran to keep up with Ed as he made his way outside of the castle. He was sitting beneath a large tree by the lake by the time she reached him. his breathing was ragged and his head rested in his hands. As the harsh breaths that wracked his frame ceased to do so she took a seat next to him and uneasily placed a hand on his back, not sure if she was overstepping her boundaries. He looked up, eyebrows still knit together. "Hi."

"Hey. Ed, what was that?"

"I don't know. A completely appropriate reaction to an annoying, self centred bigot?"

"Try again." She urged, not at all convinced by his previous answer in spite of agreeing wholeheartedly with it.

Ed deliberated for a moment before realising just what it was that had made him react as he did to Malfoy's words. "He just annoyed me Hermione. He insults people who've made themselves names and lived their own lives as he lives behind the shield of his family."

"I somewhat understand, but why would that annoy you as much as it did?"

Ed shifted so he could cross his legs and face her "It's not the most fun story to tell. I told you earlier that Hohenheim left, right?"

"Yes you did. But why do you call him Hohenheim instead of dad?"

"Because he certainly isn't my father. Anyway, he left but we were happy, Al, mum and I."

"Al?"

"My little brother." She nodded and he continued "Mum had known it for a long time but never told us. It wasn't until we found her collapsed on the kitchen floor, the things she had been holding covering the ground beside her and her consciousness only just beginning to return, that we found out that the pandemic sweeping the area had affected her. I never saw her stand again after that. I didn't even manage to give her her last wish, I was too late to make her that corsage she wanted, just like Hohenheim would have made. She died a few days later. I saw her fade away and felt her hand go slack in mine." He looked at Hermione again to gauge her reaction, her eyes were wide and teary, her hands covering her mouth "Don't pity me, Hermione." She quickly wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her robe as Ed continued "I don't have a family to lead with, nor do I have a home to return to. I had to make myself a name, some money, enough to sustain Al and myself. He's making fun of that."

"You hate him for his privilege?"

"No. I don't hate him for his privilege, rather the way he uses it."

"I see. Thanks for telling me that."

"Don't make me regret it. You've gone all red and we've got potions in a few minutes. Sort yourself out." she did so as he asked her the very thing she had been hoping of him "Desk partners?"

"Desk partners." She confirmed as they made a re-entry to the castle. Both agreed that the dungeons were a rather terrible place for both dormitories and a classroom.

"You sleep down here with them in your room?"

"Yeah."

"I'm the one that's sorry."

 **A/N - I'm just now remembering that the Philosophers stone (the harry Potter book) is called the Sorcerers stone in America. So I'll clarify now that I've kind of constructed the basis of this story on the fact that it's the _Philosophers stone._ I hope that no one's annoyed with that. Also, I have plans to make these to span the entire Harry potter series and, because of the ages and the time school will take, I'm probably going to have to play with the FMA timeline slightly. We'll just say that things happen two yeas earlier than they would with the exception of the end. I probably won't go into too much detail with the FMA in this (I'm kind of thinking of it as a mixture of the manga, the 2003 anime and Brotherhood myself) so it should be fairly ambiguous save a few tiny details that probably won't all end up fitting together into the same universe as it is.**


	17. Chapter 17

The way that Severus scrutinised the class of eleven year olds with black eyes that held none of the same warmth as Rubues Hagrid's was unnerving. He watched impatiently as a group of both Slytherin and Gryffindor girls bunched around a very uncomfortable looking Elric who had clearly already found himself a desk partner. Snape very quickly grew irritable and cleared his throat to draw attention to himself. The girls struck a pose of fear before quickly dispersing around the classroom and towards the available desks.

He could say nothing more than that he was greatly irritated with Elric's choice in desk partner. The girl was slight and smart - looking. The dampness of the dungeons had caused her hair to expand further. Though that wasn't what he found annoying, neither was her obviously muggle last name. No. What annoyed him was the garish colour of the girl's uniform, the red and gold of Gryffindor that she wore proudly.

He did, however, approve of the looks of disbelief it was drawing from potter and Weasley - though those of Malfoy and his friends were less enjoyable to look at - as they saw the supposed betrayal of their house mate. Snape began to teach, his voice dropping to ensure that the state of silence the class had fallen into stayed put "There will be no foolish wand waving in my class, nor no silly incantations." He spat the harsh syllables out like daggers, his bid to maintain silence had certainly come across as sinister. "Potions is a science, I can teach you how to train the mind, ensnare the senses, even put a stopper in death. That is as if you're not as big of Dunderheads as the lot I usually have to teach."" Through the silence Elric's little gasp of conflicted disgust at the point where he had mentioned prolonging life did not go unnoticed but it was absolutely nothing compared to the scratch of a quill on parchment "Of course, some of us at have come to the school believing that they know enough not to pay attention in class!" s he snapped Potter realised he was the one being addressed and looked up.

"My, my. Harry Potter, our little celebrity." He spat the words out as though finding them unpleasant to hold in his mouth. "Tell me, Potter," The boy's back straightened and he left his quill to rest on his paper, allowing a drop of ink to hit the parchment "what is a bezoar and where would I find one?" Harry Potter looked on at his bat-like teacher, completely silent. It was another story a few desks across. Both Elric and Granger had heard a question to which they knew the answer and had immediately readied themselves to answer. "Don't know? Shall we try again? What is the difference between monkshood and Wolfs-bane?" he was met with another bout of silence. "Still not sure? Let's try another. What would I get if I added powdered root of Asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

It was obvious harry hadn't a clue but he still spoke "I don't know, Sir. maybe you should ask Hermione, she looks like she knows."

Snape skirted around the girl entirely and turned the boy in is house who appeared just as prepared to answer, though not without retorting "Well maybe you would have thought to pick up a textbook before coming to my class. Clearly fame isn't everything. He followed it with a sharp "Elric!"

Ed supressed the urge to salute and asked "Sir?"

"What is a bezoar and where would I find one?"

"A bezoar is a stone found in the stomach of a goat. It can be used to cure a wide range of poisons."

"What is the difference between monkshood and wolfs-bane?"

"They are the same plant, known by a variety of alternative names, including but not limited to: aconite, aconitum, devil's helmet and queen of all poisons."

"And, finally, what would I get if I added powdered root of Asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"A powerful sleeping draught called the draught of the living dead. It lulls the consumer into a sleep so deep it would not be a struggle to believe them dead."

"Good. 10 points to Slytherin for Mr. Elric's clearly substantial research and 5 from Gryffindor for Mr. potter's insolence."

He assigned them their task, writing out the instructions on the board in cursive (it didn't go unnoticed that a few of the letters and even whole words were somewhat ambiguous) before taking a seat at his desk and leaving the students to complete their work independently despite their complete lack of experience.

As everyone expected, Edward and Hermione didn't take long to push themselves very far ahead of everyone else. Hermione was looking at the instructions with eyes akin to those Snape had used to examine them earlier. Edward had just looked at the board momentarily but was doing things entirely on his own from that point.

"How do you know what you're doing?" She asked him as she pushed back the curtain of bushy hair that had fallen in front of her face for what must have been the tenth time.

"I memorised the instructions a while ago, I spent a month in Diagon Alley - there wasn't much to do."

"Ah." She huffed as she pushed her hair back yet again.

"Here." Edward continued to work as he held out a small object to here with his left hand (his right was busy stirring their potion). She stared at it for a moment before realising what it was and how it could be of any use to her at that time.

"A hairband?"

"Yeah. Your hair's a lot thicker than mine but they're pretty strong and you look like you're ready to shave your head." He had become kind of awkward as if he just realised what he was doing.

"Thanks." she took the hairband, pulled her hair back messily and resumed her work.

"Can you get to cutting those," Edward pushed the material in front of her "While I finish stirring this?"

"Sure." She smiled just as a rather large pandemonium began a few desks back.

Neville's potion had melted Seamus' cauldron and splattered all over him. What was meant to be a cure for boils turned to be the opposite due to a combination of improper mixture and incompleteness. Where the potion had exploded over him Neville found himself covered in boils, painful looking ones that caused inflammation and redness of what little skin wasn't covered in boils.

Ed and Hermione watched from where they stood as Snape deducted further points from Gryffindor, blaming the incident on Harry's failure to alert Neville of his mistake. Snape grudgingly led Neville to the infirmary after vanishing the spilt potion.

"God! That man!" Ed said to Hermione the second he could be sure that Snape would not hear him. "What kind of reason is that to take house points?"

Hermione waited a moment, until they had poured their own textbook perfect potion into the provided phial, before stating her agreement "I can understand not picking me earlier - you had your hand up too. But this? It's ridiculous."

"It's a shame really. I like potions."

They just stood and talked, watching other people finish and waiting for the professor to return for a few minutes. It was then that Snape retuned and declared that their mission had ended. he requested that they placed their work, labelled and as complete as they had made it, on his desk. Hermione and Ed were the first ones to put their phial on the desk as well as the first to leave the room. The damp cold was biting at Ed's ports again, biting at the sensitive skin that surrounded the metal. The sunlight flooding the hallways above ground was more than welcome as it allowed the pain to dim somewhat. Hermione was just glad to be out of the dark room.

Ed laughed as she wrestled with the hairband - wishing she had put more effort in to tying her hair up so she didn't have the issue - before returning it.

"Thanks. We've both got charms next, haven't we?"

"Yeah. Fred, George and Percy said that they liked Flitwick didn't they?"

"I think so."

"Oh, thank god!"

Ron and harry were still very much bitter from the completely unfair events of their potions lesson.

"He even picked that git to answer his question! he just wanted to give the points to his own house! Besides, I doubt that Edward minded showing us up again."

"I can't believe he took points from me because of Neville's mishap. Surely that's against the rules!"

"How do you plan on tellin' off a teacher, mate?"

"I don't." harry clarified "I just wish that I could."

Though they would never admit it, they were very much following the path that Ed and Hermione took. Neither was yet well-versed in the layout of the school or the tricks and traps that they had been warned about - from moving staircases to the appropriately named poltergeist that roamed the halls.


	18. Chapter 18

Harry had known that both Ed and Hermione were somewhat unfairly intelligent already. Charms merely proved to cement that knowledge.

It had been something of a comical sight, to see Filius Flitwick balanced precariously on a stack of books as he called their register in a squeaky voice. It was just as amusing to see the looks of horror on Ed and Hermione's face as they looked at the poor tomes the tiny man dared to place his feet upon.

He had nearly tumbled off the stack as he called Harry's name but he didn't taunt him as Snape did. Rather, he tried to regain his composure and continue the task at hand before beginning their lesson.

Harr could tell that Hemione wanted to re-join her friend from Slytherin as partners in that lesson as well. However, Pansy Parkinson beat her to it, dragging Ed way by his left arm as he sighed and grudgingly followed with a resigned expression on his face. Ron had been paired with Hermione and Harry had found himself siting by one of his roommates: Seamus Finnigan.

In theory, the lesson was as easy as it got; levitate the feather with a simple charm " _Wingardium leviosa."_ In practice, it was proving near impossible. Hermione had said to Ron that his pronunciation was off. "You're saying it wrong! It's LeviosA, not LeviOsa!" That had resulted in Ron challenging her to perform the spell herself. It was around that time that Ed had finally managed to receive the feather from Pansy who seemed not to want to allow her desk partner to do something when she could do it herself (not that she had been met with any success at all).

"Wingardium Leviosa." They both spoke at the same time, using the same elegant wand movements to levitate their feathers far above their heads with supposed ease.

"Excellent! It seems Miss. Granger and Mr. Elric have managed to levitate their feathers! Ten points to Gryffindor, ten points to Slytherin!" he had almost take a tumble again as he squealed out his declaration of delight.

It had acted like fuel to the remainder of the class. Both students who had been met with success had calmly passed their feathers to their desk mates before sitting and reading through their charms books as instructed. Harry saw the familiar shape of Ed's wand as it sat next to him, Ebony and phoenix feather, 16 and three quarter inches, unyielding.

Seamus sat by Harry's side, waving his wand around violently just as Ron had been earlier. He said the words in a violent tone and hit the end of his wand against the long, white feather that they were meant to be charming. The feather combusted.

From across the room Ed couldn't help but think that s similar reaction would have occurred much sooner should Mustang be placed in such a seemingly ridiculous situation as he had. Thinking of home only brought thoughts of his little brother, left alone in Amestris and probably unable to perform magic due to his lack of a body (Ed had tried a few simple spells with his automail arm but had never once been able to draw a reaction).

The humour of the situation was prolonged as harry potter raised his hand and spoke in a tone that was meek, humorous, and entirely confused at the same time. "Professor, I think we need a new feather." A blush arose on Seamus' face. One so strong that the flaming red flush could be seen through even the opaque black soot that covered his face.

Edward was acutely aware of Pansy's piggish face glancing over his shoulder, watching as he carelessly flipped his wand through his fingers as if it were a baton. She had been intending to ask for help but a mixture of reluctance and fascination had halted her. She never wanted to ask for the help of her genius classmate and had been drawn to do so by mere necessity. She didn't want to admit that he was better than her, she didn't want to be second to anyone. She wished to retain her rather immense, asinine levels of pride but was finding the ginormous bulk of her ego hard to latch onto any longer.

The wand twirling so calmly through his fingers had provided her with the distraction she had been hoping for. It was not only the artistic flourishes of his movement that had her entranced. No. It was the wad itself. She had no doubt a wand like that belonged in the hand of a Slytherin. It was sleek, covered with cadaverous engravings and as dark as night. The last was especially noticeable as the wand was being held in his white glove.

Her trance was promptly broken as he grew antsy beneath her unrelenting stare. "Can I help you?"

"Yes." She was damaging her pride by asking, she wouldn't dare damage it further by stuttering like a lost, weak, little girl facing up to the boy she had a crush on. It was not, however, such an easy thing for her to do – to remain prideful, that is – when his hand was reluctantly controlling hers, correcting her previously violent movement into a calmer, more appropriate one. She had blushed nearly as much as Seamus, though she did not know why – it was not as if she liked he boy, he was no Draco Malfoy.

The look of envy that she saw on Lavender's face when she looked across the room patched up the dent in her pride instantly, though. As she caught a glimpse of the girl's face – practically green – she stuck out her tongue like the little child she had refused to act like moments before as Edward continued to correct her movement, oblivious.

The feather twitched on the table that time. Though it was hardly a compliment when she heard Ed say I that oddly accented voice of his "Thank god she asked. I was half sure I'd be missing an eye as well by the end of the day." He certainly sounded relieved. She didn't ponder that moment and the words "as well" completely slipped by her as she focused on both her offense and her pride.

After charms, the Slytherins and Gryffindors shared no further lessons. A brief glance at the timetables made most breathe a sigh of relief though Hermione and Edward couldn't help but feel as though they were going to miss having an actually intelligent desk partner unless paired with one from another house, an unlikely event when so few associated outside of their own houses so early into their first year.

Hermione didn't mind so much. While she didn't really consider anybody else she shared a desk with that day a friend they certainly weren't bad people and were rather amusing to make conversation with. Neville Longbottom, her acquaintance from the train, had recovered from his potions scare and was able to associate with her fondly as he proudly showed off the toad he had finally found.

Ed was as miserable as he'd known he would be from the offset. His housemates were problematic, whiney and spoiled. Purist, fascist brats down to the very core it appeared. It was as though he was being forced into a social gathering where he was surrounded with a crowd of Roy Mutangs, possibly even worse.

"Elric?" There had been a rather annoying conversation initiated between himself and Draco that began in this simple way "Why did you share a desk with that filthy little Gryffindor mudblood?"

"Maybe because I don't care about blood status?"

"Don't joke Elric! If you were just trying to get a good potion made you shouldn't worry your little blonde head."

"Little?" Ed focused on that single word and failed to remember, in that moment, that Draco was also blonde.

Draco chose to ignore his rage-filled hiss "You're a Slytherin, the son of Hohenheim at that. Snape will grade you fairly."

"I am not that bastard's son! Nor do I consider what that man does fair!" He spat at Draco who looked both put-out and amused at the boy's temper and the way that it perfectly fit his appearance.

"What are we Elric? A bitter humanitarian?" Draco smirked "Why would someone hate his own father? Why would someone hate a man who is leaning in the way that favours himself?"

"My father, my family, is none of your concern Malfoy! I'll say only one thing, though I doubt that you're even listening. You are selfish. We are not the same!" He had stormed off after that bold declaration, his boots making a lot of nose and the metal clicks that constantly followed him increasing in volume as his feet hammered onto the floor forcefully with each enraged footfall. The argument had silenced the hall as the negativity in the air became palpable. It was that silence that allowed Draco to call after the retreating boy and know that he would be heard.

"Not the same?" He laughed cruelly, like a remorseless killer "Elric, you and I both know that that's a lie!" his voice dissipated into the air as Edward decided to opt out entirely on lunch to avoid the boy and, instead, head towards the edge of the Black lake. The lake was the type of place to which Al would retreat if he were upset but, of course, Al was not there. There was only dark, unsettled water and cold wind that bit at his ports to accompany Ed as he sat. he was in something of a foul mood and could feel himself seething without Al to tell him he needed to calm down before he murdered the subject of that anger.

The very thought of his brother managed to replace one bad mood with another. Anger was swapped with what could only be called homesickness. What a bitter irony that was. His home was ash and rubble and memories and demons and mistakes. His home was gone. How could one with no home find themselves wishing to be there? Wishing to be somewhere that was no more than fantasy?


	19. Chapter 19

The next morning at breakfast Ed had situated among members of his own house after his jog around the grounds. He didn't have the effort to braid his hair that morning and his ponytail had come loose with his running so he had simply allowed his hair to fall and fan around his shoulders. It was rather funny how much that subtle change in his appearance had disconcerted some people, Pansy took about 5 minutes to realise that the boy already sitting a few seats down from her was Edward Elric.

For Edward, it was a wonderful thing to marvel when the post came in via owl. The myriad of owls swooping above his heads, each one their own shape, size and colour, wasn't the sort of thing you could see in Amestris. There was a little flitter of excitement as he saw Onyx swooping towards him with something tied to her ankle. A smile made its way to his face, despite the misfortune of where he was seated, as she landed in front of him. She pecked at his oatmeal before turning to him and tilting her head as she waited for him to use his initiative and take action.

He pulled at the string that tied his post to the little owl and watched as it dropped onto the table beneath Onyx. He muttered a "thank you" to her in Amestrian before she flew off, satisfied. He picked up the first letter somewhat reluctantly, for he had seen the military crest in the wax seal. After breaking the seal he withdrew the letter and easily read though the coded contents. "Huh. The bastard hasn't assigned me some ridiculous task for once. He just wants me to send him back a copy of those research notes Al gave me after I've decoded them? that's not like him." The mumbled speech was in Amestrian so not one of the many people who surrounded him could understand so much as a single word.

The next letter was clearly typed out, on a typewriter, of course. That was a sure sign that it was from Al if the fact that it was addressed to "Brother" wasn't enough to tell him that. Ed's own handwriting had to be done with his non-dominant hand as the automail had no pressure sensitivity and had broken many writing instruments. He was however, becoming fairly decent at the task as what was once chicken scratch was perfectly legible, though it was rather sharp and harsh. Al didn't have the option to write so he had to hope he didn't break the typewriter he was using by jamming the letters too hard with his unfeeling fingers.

Ed didn't even attempt to supress the urge to face-palm once he read the news: Al had found another two stray cats and was housing them in his armour. Not one, two. That was more than enough to warrant a face-palm performed with a metal hand. the noise it made upon collision with his forehead confused everyone near enough to him to hear it but not one looked at him as though he were the reason for it.

Hermione had spotted Ed instantly when she walked in - the first and only person to be sitting at the Slytherin table had long, gold hair so she would be stretched if she were to call it a challenge. He was reading, as always, as was she. He was in the first of that day's lesson with her - transfiguration with professor McGonagall, head of Gryffindor house.

That lesson didn't start in the best of ways, at least not for Harry and Ron. They had rushed in late and breathed sighs of relief as they saw the scene in front of them. "Thank God we weren't late!"

"Can you imagine the look on old McGonagall's face if we had been?" It was then that the cat that had been sitting on the desk at the front of the classroom leapt up from its seat and morphed smoothly into a woman, a very familiar one at that. "Bloody wicked!"

"Thank you for that observation Mr, Weasley. Should I transfigure Mr. Potter or yourself into a pocket watch? That way one of you might be on time."

Harry took that as a signal to speak up for whatever reason "We got lost, Professor."

"Then perhaps a map?" She quickly ushered them to their seats and proceeded with a lesson that made absolutely no conceptual sense to the alchemist among the students as he simply could not see beyond the complete lack of equivalence. Maybe their gates were different from that of a normal person, allowing them to access a supply of limitless power? All is one, one is all. That shouldn't - no, it couldn't - be possible.

Despite his confusion he couldn't help but be transfixed as he watched the desk change into something animate: a pig. Her wandwork was elegant and rehearsed, it had set Edward a goal. not only that, but he had also noticed one thing. Even if equivalent exchange didn't quite apply it was impossible to create something from nothing. There was some confirmation there at the very least.

It wasn't a shock to find out that such a transfiguration was so far out of their reach at present. They would not yet be playing with the complexity of animation, though it would only be about a year before they did so to a minor level. They were not yet used to the use of their powers and so they would only be turning a toothpick into a needle.

McGonagall was not at all like Snape in her treatment of the students. Though she did clearly show a dislike for Draco Malfoy: something Edward strongly agreed with. No one was surprised that Edward and Hermione, who had instantly gravitated towards each other once they entered the classroom, had quickly mastered the spell and were sitting at a desk covered in glinting needles. McGonagall didn't care that only one was in her house, she had taken quite a liking to the prodigious pair, whether she'd admit it aloud or not.

Day after day rolled around, filled with lessons in which everyone was upstaged by Ed ad Hermione who could always be found in the library when they weren't eating or in a lesson. There had been an unofficial "study group" forming around them of kids from both their year and years above them. Essentially, they fed off their notes on texts that they needed to read and others that they didn't and used that easily gained knowledge to pass their classes.

But there was one day when only one of the first year geniuses was in the library, a few days into the month of October. The other had hardly spoken all day and absolutely nobody knew why. He was still completing perfect spells but the way he did so was lazy. He seemed really detached. He was tense and anyone you asked would asked would vouch that he hadn't consumed a single meal all day. He had slunk down to breakfast without doing a jog and without bothering to so much as brush his hair, to collect his post. There was an excess of it on that day, a thick wad of letters that Ed had to use both hands to carry back to the dungeons.

The weirdest thing?

The very next day he was his normal, boisterous, hyperactive, enthusiastic self.

The month of October didn't pass without a few more blips.

Harry and Ron had become really annoyed with Ed and Hermione's superior intellect. They had already excluded Edward from their briefly established friendship and had apparently decided that Hermione was the next person that they were going to offend. Their was one thing that had really gotten to Hermione and they had said that thing as she had passed by."No wonder she doesn't have any friends." It wasn't that she didn't have any friends, Edward was certainly what most would call a friend to her. She became paranoid that the boy didn't like her as much as she liked him, that she annoyed him.

That day that half of the genius duo disappeared in an upset fluster. Apparently she had been crying in the bathroom for hours. It was really rather incredible what terrible things those words had led to.

"Troll! Troll in the dungeon! I thought you ought to know." Then the flustered Professor Quirrel had fainted weak heartedly and left the issue to those present ad conscious.

 **A/N I'm sorry that it's been so long, I've been busy. I think we all know what's coming up next chapter. Thanks as always for all of your reviews, follows and favourites, it means a lot to know that people enjoy reading my fanfictions.**

 **~We'reAllABitOdd**


	20. Chapter 20

Harry and Ron wee confused, beyond confused, in fact. They had been trying to play hero and had been convinced of their success in capturing the troll. They had locked the ugly, greying, mass of moving flesh into the girl's bathroom and had then been prepared to call it a job well done and leave for their dorm. Or, at least they had been until the flash of gold, green and black had appeared around the corner.

That flash was certainly familiar, though it wasn't what the young Gryffindors would have called welcome. That flash never quite halted as it neared what could only be considered its intended destination. Its momentum, however, did drastically decrease.

"HUUUH?! ED?!" Ron yelled as the Slytherin approached them.

He answered by yelling in his own language a phrase that clearly was not meant for the ears of children.

"I may not understand you but I can understand an insult when I hear one!" Ron protested as Harry sheepishly watched.

"You idiots!" he had easily transitioned to English and seemed to have toned down the profanity by several levels in his new statement "You locked that monstrosity in the bathroom, right? Just where do you think Hermione is right now, crying because you two utter _shitheads_ decided to turn your jealousy into heartlessness?"

It struck them then that he was completely right. Those golden eyes scanned their faces, their chattering teeth, their quivering lips, their wide eyes, with such intensity that the nervousness only increased.

"Don't just stand thee looking so utterly pathetic! Help her!" He urged impatiently as he shoved them both aside with his left arm. he clicked the key that Ron and Harry had used to lock the door just as Hermione yelled in complete terror from behind it. He shoved it open urgently and hoped the two idiots had the sense and morality to follow.

It was a rather terrible thing, seeing the only friend he had who was not thrice his age cowering beneath the stained porcelain sink as the troll towered over her with its rudimentary club clasped tightly in its warty, beefy hand. harry and Ron had, in fact, followed Ed and felt another sense of fear towards the boy as he in took the scene and the aura he emitted grew darker, scarier. It became palpable, suffocating, smothering.

"You bastard." The words played at his lip, deadly calm, before he pulled out his wand and cast a simple charm around Hermione to protect her as Ron and harry leapt towards the troll with all the desperation one would come to expect of someone fighting for their life. It was a wonder to them how the Slytherin's composure had not faltered, how he was simply darting over the wreckage caused by the troll and beneath the stupid monster's legs to reach his friends as she sat shaking and sobbing within his protective charm. It appeared he trusted those he considered incompetent able enough to handle the even dumber Mountain Troll.

It was when, in a final attempt to keep himself alive, harry had shoved his wand up the nose of the troll, Ed decided he may just have to intervene - he had enough fighting experience for all four of them, even if the other three were unaware of it. The wand inserted into the creatures nose did serve an affective distraction and Ron's quick levitation charm affectively disarmed their opponent, sending its primitive club flying far out of reach. However, it still had fists. Large fists that could both asphyxiate and crush them. Ones that were swinging wildly though the air as the troll began to become accustomed to his lack of a weapon.

"Petrificus totalus!" it was the first spell Ed had thought of and knew he could perform that would work in the current situation, and work it did. As though bound with an invisible rope, maybe even a thick chain of un-breaking steel, the creatures fatty libs were pulled tightly into its flabby form. Ron and harry exchanged looks and gulped in synch before sparing a glance to the Slytherin both had briefly considered a friend. They were beginning to regret their decision to cast him aside, he was intimidating, perhaps even terrifying, but he had done as much as he had to help a friend - said friend was muggle born, as well.

"You're scary, you know?"

"Why thank you. I do try my best." the statement itself may have been humorous, joking in the same dry, sarcastic way harry had heard what seemed so long ago when they had first met, but he was expressionless, both in his voice and face. Harry helped the still shaking Hermione to her feet as the door burst open with the groan of the old hinges and a group of panicking teachers stuck their heads around the door.

"What is happening in here?" McGonagall was uncharacteristically flustered, her hair was coming loose and the flyways were sticking to her face, her cheeks were red and her hat sat wonky atop her head.

The two Gryffindors exchanged glances as Hermione tried to control her shaking and Ed made sure she was okay, just as he would have done to his brother if he had been involved in the same situation.

"I-it was my fault, professor." There was a very obvious tremor in Hermione's voice and, as he had his flesh hand resting comfortingly between her shoulder blades, Ed could feel her breathing continue erratically. "I've read a bit about mountain trolls and thought I could take it. I was wrong. Harry, Ronald and Edward saved me."

"Miss Granger? I would never expect such irresponsible behaviour from you! Five points from Gryffindor." Hermione didn't dare protest, nor did she see a reason too. "As for you, Mr Weasley, Mr. Potter, five points to Gryffindor for sheer, dumb luck." it would seem Gryffindor had not lost any points after all, rather it had gained five.

"Mr. Elric, is this spell yours?" She examined the immobilised troll with an impressed look "I can see why Professor Flitwick thinks so highly of you. I don't particularly care for putting other houses above my own but you shall receive credit where credit is due. Ten points to Slytherin for impressive spellwork, especially under the given conditions. Now, all of you, return to your dorms immediately." She span on her heel and left to alert the rest of the faculty of the current state of the situation as the first years bid each other goodbye.

Finally, they believed that they could say that they were all friends.


	21. Chapter 21

harry and Ron were more than grateful to have befriended the genius duo as they had been nicknamed. They were incredibly helpful when it came to studying as neither of them were very adept at it, but more than anything their magical aptitude and understanding had shown that it could be terrifying depending on how they applied it. The study sessions Ed and Hermione often held in the library often included Ron and Harry after the battle with the troll, it had become less awkward and the two proved their worth as they helped to prevent those of lesser intelligence fall behind with their schoolwork.

And then there had been flying lessons. At the time of their first flying lesson here had been a lot of bragging done by the pure-bloods and half-bloods of every house of their flying skill. That was easily counteracted by the nervousness f the muggle-burns and the two half-bloods who had been raised as muggles. It had been no surprise to the teachers as Harry Potter's and Ron Weasley's grades dropped somewhat as those who normally helped them to increase the quality of their homework began to immerse themselves in the theories and workings of flight by broomstick.

At last, the day of the first lesson came and Edward Elric was already aware he was going to have to blatantly disobey Madame Hooch's initial instruction. "Put your right hands over you broom and shout "UP!"" She instructed just as Ed had been expecting her to. he watched for a moment as people obeyed, their brooms either ignoring them or rolling slightly on the floor - very few achieved the desired affect on the first try. He was already aware that magic did not accept his automail as an extension of him, and so did not react to it as it would a normal arm. After both harry and Draco had succeeded on their first attempts he stepped over the broom and held his one, real hand over it. Madame Hooch caught his movement and yelled a confused "Elric?" as he said a confident word of command. The broom hit his hand, to the surprise of the teacher who just blinked before muttering "okay then." It wasn't as though she had never met a left-handed student before but normally the brooms would refuse to cooperate with anything but their right arm.

After everyone had finally succeeded in calling their broom to their hand they had received instruction on how to actually _fly._ Of course, a nervous, jittery Neville Longbottom who had never once been trusted with a broom despite his magical upbringing, kicked off of the ground early and shot up, out of control, eyes squeezed shut, and whimpering as he continued to ascend.

"Mr Longbottom! Mr Longbottom!" Madame Hooch was yelling up to the poor boy but he could not gain control over the broom. Eventually, he fell and plummeted even faster than he had ascended. He hit the ground, hard. there was sickening crunch as he fell onto his arm and the entire class rushed to their injured classmate, though most out of curiosity rather than concern.

"Neville!" Harry and Ron yelled for their roommate as they rushed to his side, following Ed and followed by Hermione. Ed got there before he teacher and examined the aftermath in a way that made him seem very familiar with such situations, perhaps even worse ones. He took but a moment before looking up at Madame Hooch who had allowed him to assess the situation after seeing the way in which h was doing so "Broken wrist."

She had taken Neville to the infirmary, instructing them to keep their feet planted firmly on the ground. Of course, she had missed the small, spherical object that Neville had dropped during his ungraceful fall. Draco Malfoy, did not, however. He picked up the small object, watching the colourful smoke curl within it before turning cruel. It had happened quickly, most had missed the beginnings of the incident, in fact, but Draco Malfoy was soon up in the air, perched expertly on his broom with the orb in his hand. Harry looked entirely ready to follow, and, despite Hermione's warning, follow he did.

Later Harry had been reunited with his friends after showing off some rather impressive and lucky skills. He told them the story of what had happened and his recruitment to the Gryffindor Quidditch team. They had ben walking through the Halls at the time, on a break, and their responses had varied from Ron's character appropriate "Bloody Hell!" and Ed and Hermione's equally as characteristic well-informed response. They had told him about his father playing Seeker in the same team as he was going to, cementing his suspicion that their reading had led to them knowing more about hi than he did. It was really extremely frustrating.

October was certainly an interesting month, between the Death-day party (which none of the living attendants would recommend) and Halloween it would be a gross understatement to call it anything less. The build up to Halloween had been amusing amidst a large amount of oddity. The most amusing part about it was probably Ed. He knew everything, or at least appeared to, so it was a shock to everyone when, one day, as he was eating breakfast with the Gryffindors as he always did, he had offhandedly asked Fred and George who had been sitting across from him what all of the weird decorations in the castle were for. Ron had choked on the excessive amount of food he had stuffed into his mouth, proving Hermione's point as she complained to him about that very thing; Harry had looked at him rather oddly; Fred and George had commented on why his seemingly endless knowledge didn't cover such a thing; Hermione and Percy had jumped to his defence; and poor Ed just looked on, confused as to why people reacted in the way that they did.

"Honestly? He's from a different country, you can't expect him to know _all_ of our customs!" Hermione had declared.

"She's right." Percy had picked up and continued on from her concept "Edward, they're Halloween decorations. Halloween is a celebration that we have around here, it happens on the thirty first of October annually. You'll find that it's rather popular among wizards and ghosts, at least in England, it is."

"These are rather strange decorations for a celebration." he noted.

"They are, though I am rather surprised that you don't have Halloween in Amestris, it's not terribly far from here, is it?"

Harry spoke up "It's close enough to travel by train." he confirmed.

"Yeas, but it is a rather closed off country. In terms of muggle technology we're probably about a century behind you and it's a military government, we don't yet know what exactly is meant by democracy, it seems."

"Ugh! can we cool it with the smart-person-speak and go back to regular English, please?" Ron interjected without invitation.

"Ron, which one of us is the native-English-speaker here?"

"Oh shut up Elric, it's early an I'm tired, you've been up since like five and I've been awake for about fifteen minutes."

"It doesn't change the fact that you're the one who has spoken English for eleven years."

"At least I knew what Halloween was!" Ron rushed to as a defence.

"Okay Weasley, tell me, when's the Summer Solstice?"

"How and why would I know that? I don't even know what the Summer Solstice is!"

"My point exactly."

"I hate you."

"Thank you, I try."

"You're not your typical smart person, are you? You and Hermione are really not very alike."

"You're saying that as if you're just now realising it. Besides, most of the smart people I know are the most infuriating bastards that you could have the misfortune of meeting. When I try to think of nice ones only two come to mind and one of them is Hermione!"

 **A/N I'm sorry I haven't updated in a while, I've been ill and still kind of am. Also, apparently it's entirely okay to give me thirteen bits of homework for one week and probably more over the progression of it, oh the joys of top set classes. Sorry, I'll try to avoid update gaps that make people start reviewing to question them, I don't like leaving such long gaps and, apparently, neither does anyone else, so I'll try my best to minimize them. Sorry once again, also that this chapter was kind of filler-y but there's only so much I can skip entirely if I want to retain some sense of canon for the Philosopher's stone. Also, I've been binging on Bleach and Tokyo Ghoul so that certainly hasn't helped my case.**

 **~We'reAllABitOdd**

 **(Who apparently forgot how to use the symbol that she writes before her name in the A/N sign-off because she hasn't in ages. I'm not kidding, I couldn't press the keys properly for some reason.)**


	22. Chapter 22

The wind blew right them that morning, a seemingly random Saturday at the forefront of November. the sun didn't seem to have risen, the sky was dark, whether clouded over or simply stuck in the state of night was unknown. Whatever the case, there was a thin sliver of a silver crescent that continued to dip in and out of vision, weaving through the sky with no pattern to its movements. Ed had actually managed to get Ron and Harry to join him on his jog that morning, an idea that didn't take long to prove itself to be not-such-a-good-one. They were both unfamiliar with the grounds, at least the path around them that Ed took; their paces were significantly slower and their stamina far less; the darkness had hidden the path they were required to take from their vision and caused them to trip many a time.

It had been amusing to Hermione at the very least, when she saw Ed walk into the hall with his usual grandeur that would be witnessed by twenty of the schools hundreds of students at most she hadn't known the whereabouts of her other friends and assumed that they were still sleeping. that was, until they walked into the hall, barely managing to push the heavy door open in front of them as they staggered in, bent at the middle, panting like dogs, and sweating profusely. She looked up from her porridge those many minutes later, as the two boys stumbled and groaned as they slowly crossed the floor. She turned to Ed, sitting next o her and eating his own porridge nonchalantly.

"What did you do to them and will it cause you legal issues?"

"I just tried to take them on a jog! It's not my fault that they're unfit, I can fix it, in fact!"

"Why do I feel like your definition of a jog is a normal person's sprint? How long is the path that you jog, anyway?"

"I don't really know, I just 'jog' around the outskirts of the grounds, across the front of the forest." he shrugged and made air-quotes around the word 'jog' in response to Hermione's earlier statement.

Harry and Ron fell heavily onto the bench across from them, nearly flopping to either the back, which would result in them whacking their heads painfully on the hard floors, or the front, which would make them fall straight into the mountains of food that had hardly been touched due to the earliness of the hour.

"How do you lot get up this early? Especially to exercise? Ed, mate, that ain't normal."

"And you ain't in shape." It was said mockingly, an imitation of what had been said to him, repeated and altered to fit the new context into which it was placed. He even went so far as to do a poor imitation of the informal British accent.

"How _do_ you do it, Ed?"

"My teacher back home practically drilled this 'keep in shape, keep your life' philosophy into my head. I don't have to jog all that much at home, though." He it was hardly noticeable, the slight hesitation before the word 'home' as if he had searched for a more suitable word and been unable o find an alternative "It's like everyone in Amestris wants to keep me on my toes."

"Speaking of, what's it actually like in Amestris?" Hermione asked, forever thirsting for new knowledge.

"Geographically or culturally?"

"Both."

"It depends entirely upon the area. For instance, Fort Briggs at the very North, on the border between Amestris and Drachma. It's a barren icy, wasteland, or so I've been told. The only life is that of the people in Fort Briggs, which is this massive, imposing military base, and he bears in the surrounding area. However, if you were to head up to the capital city: Central, you'd see an excess of people. there are a lot of Oddballs there and the number of tourists from places like Xing, China," He corrected himself, realising he had used the Amestrian word instead of the English "Who come to see the property of the Fuhrer. There's Rush Valley. It's a pretty big, busy city that's entirely full of machinery and mechanics. Liore is on the border to China, it's a desert. The people there are pretty strictly religious. Then there are the slums, where most of the Ishvalan survivors of the war are forced to live because there are still too many people who just don't understand that race doesn't dictate worth. Then there are places like my hometown. Well, I call it a own, Resembool is definitely more of a village. It's in the southeast, pretty rural. It's the kind of place where everyone knows everyone and people moving in or away is close to unheard of."

"Wait," Ron interjected "Is Edward Elric telling us he's a country Bumpkin?" he laughed, as did the Weasley twins who had walked in on time to catch the tail end of their conversation.

"Oh god, not you!" He exclaimed a he saw the troublesome twins.

"Ah what's wrong Edo? You more comfortable around sheep than people?"

"Well, yes." he admitted "But you three are teasing me, don't you live in the countryside. Besides, I spend most of the time in east City now, I moved a few years back. You three are seriously hypocritical."

The hall began to fill as time passed and the group remained at the table long after they had finished eating, chatting idly and trying to make sense of what Ed and Hermione were reading as they periodically contributed to the ongoing conversation. Then the mail came. It was the usual spectacle of hundreds of owls of different colours swooping at different heights, squawking and cawing at different pitches and volumes as they passed above the heads of many students as they awaited their mail. Onyx had soon gotten into the habit of visiting the Gryffindor table in the morning instead of the Slytherin one an and soon that day like she would any other.

The post looked as it always did, letters enclosed in plain envelopes, most printed with the seal of his local military. He untied the letters from his little owl's leg and watched as she hopped around impatiently, unable to find any remnants of his breakfast to pick at. Irritably, she pecked a couple of times at his right hand, making him flinch as he begged that no one could hear the very obviously metallic sound of his hand upon contact with the hard beak. She flapped her wings and disappeared, sending him a look that seemed as though it should have been accompanied by a huff.

A stray feather flew upon he departure, fluttering downwards in a spiralling motion that was reminiscent of dancing. the burgundy feather landed on top of Ed's head, making him chuckle slightly as he removed it, placed it on the table ahead of him, and tore the wax seal of the first of his letters. He scanned the text for a second before his laugh halted abruptly. He began to mutter unpleasantly in fast-paced Amestrian as he continued to read the scrawled, spidery handwriting that looked like a less shaky variation of his own.

It was written in Amestrian, though the English translation would read:

 _Dear Major Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist,_ (that line was the only formal one in the whole thing)

 _Hey Chief! You're at magic school? Are you entirely sure that alchemy isn't some kind of voodoo magic and these are two entirely separate things? Anyway, I can't just sit around exchanging pleasantries (you can thank Hawkeye for that transition, I was stuck with what to say), I have something bad to tell you and you certainly aren't going to be too happy about it._

 _Al has been staying at an inn since you've been gone (it_ _ **would**_ _be pretty weird for him to stay in the barracks seeing as he isn't actually military) and it collapsed the other day. There was a criminal on the loose and, apparently, he knew some messed up type of alchemy. Except, he wasn't very smart with it. He sent the inn toppling to the ground, on top of himself. I say 'was' because it killed him instantly. Al helped to get everyone out of the building before they could get crushed under the falling rubble. No one else died and Al's armour is hardly damaged. But everyone who was in the in has been admitted to the hospital for shock and to treat any minor injuries, make sure there's not dust in their lungs, hat there are no broken bones or infected cuts, that type of thing. I don't really understand the issue but Mustang ordered me to contact you and tell you about it and what he needs you to do. Anyhow, he's keeping Al in his office, shouting down the phone at hospital staff and trying to make sure that everyone knows that Al is fine._

 _The problem is, the hospital says that, as Al's a minor, they need permission from his guardian, being you (who is also a minor, though one with state qualification) to drop the case. So Mustang is ordering you to write a letter addressed to the hospital to fix the issue._

 _Also, I got a new girlfriend! She's really sweet and she has as big of a thing with roses as I do cigarettes. She's quite the looker too! Now I've just got to keep Roy (He wants to be the Fuhrer but spends all of his time procrastinating and stealing my girlfriends? Really?) away from her, probably forever. I wish Hawkeye was his shadow instead of his lieutenant so she was constantly there. maybe then she could shoot him for being an ass?_

 _See ya Chief!_

 _Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc._

"Ugh, mate. Why does that letter smell of cigarette smoke?" Ron asked, leaning over to try to see the contents, apparently forgetting that he didn't speak the language that it was most likely written in a language he didn't know. Ed ignored him.

"Sorry guys, I've got to go. there's a letter than I need o write that I'd rather not. I don't know how to do formality and I don't give a shit about it really. But I do care about what I'm writing about. I'll see you all tomorrow?" He left with a few temporary words of departure following him, arriving at the dungeons to find that Draco and his gang were sitting around the blazing fire in the common room. He edged around the walls and hoped that they neither heard nor saw him. Much to his relief, it appeared that they did not. He opened the door a crack, remembering that it would creak if he opened it to the point at which it was perpendicular with the wall it was hinged to, and slipped in, closing it behind him slowly enough for it to be in silence.

he sat down to begin writing "Why can't I have an actual adult write this sort of thing? No, why do these sort of things have to be written, _ever?_ Is it that bad for two distraught kids to try to play God?"


	23. Chapter 23

There was a lot to be wary of on the grounds of Hogwarts: the lake and its inhabitants; the forest and the creatures that roamed it, the whomping willow that attacked all who dared approached, and many more inside the school itself. At that point, Ron, Ed, harry, and Hermione had found the staircases tendency to move to be their problem. They were going to be late. that was why they could be seen - four rather interesting first-years - sprinting through the halls of the castle. Three of the four were panting and their speed began to deteriorate the more they ran. The other remained relaxed, somewhat, he still didn't want to be late, as he ran lazily ahead of the others as though he were doing nothing more than jogging slowly.

Then the staircase that they were on moved with a loud, high-pitched groan that was painful to the ears. It swung across, avoiding the many other staircases that were both moving and stationary. the sudden movement had thrown their balance off a little, making Ed grip the banister lightly upon instinct and his three friends fall in a muddled heap a few stairs down.

He looked at them, a little puzzled "Why are you on the floor?"

"Shut up." Ron Weasley grunted as he pulled himself to his feet with a great deal of effort due to the weight of his friends. Hermione scrambled up, brushed off her robe and tried to look dignified. harry merely shrugged, stood up and grimaced at the muddy print Ron's shoe had made on his robe.

Then the staircase clicked into place. The groans haled abruptly and the four made haste to get off of it as it began to make the noise again, quickly, as if it were preparing to leave straight after arriving at its location. then the two smart members of the group noticed just where the staircase had dropped them off. Ed's slanted eyes opened a little, making them appear more round, just before Hermione declared their realisation. "Don't yo realise where we are? This is the _forbidden_ third floor!" Unfortunately for them (or perhaps fortunately should the bigger picture be accounted for) a distant mew rang in their ears through what was an otherwise silent hallway.

The Gryffindors quickly stopped leaning over in their attempts to regain the ability to breathe and promptly sprinted off behind their Slytherin friend. Then they had found a door. It was obvious that Filch was gaining on them and the door was their only option. Unfortunately, the door was locked. Harry and Ron began to panic but Ed and Hermione had both calmly drawn their wands, "Oh move _over."_ Hermione commanded "Ed, I'll do this one." The addressed boy nodded as she elegantly flicked her wand "Alohamora."

The lock clicked and the door fell open a crack with a quiet creak as Filch's fast-paced footsteps grew audible. harry and Ron stared in awe at their friend as Ed exhaled in frustration at their inability to assess a situation and shoved them through the open door. Hermione followed calmly as the two boys found themselves in a heap of limbs for the second time in the space of ten minutes. They piled up against the door, breaths loud and heavy, as they heard the footsteps that had been tailing them pass what Filch thought to be a locked door. That was, everyone but Ed who was sitting with his back pushed flush against the door and his knees tucked tightly up into his chest. He had no need to catch his breath and had been assessing the state of the room they had found themselves in. It hadn't taken him long to see _it._

He appeared to be trying to push himself back into the door further, unable to stand due to Ron's lingering presence over his head. "Guys," they didn't appear to hear him over the racket of their own breathing so he tried again, louder this time "Guys!" The official-sounding, authoritive bark very quickly dew their attention to the golden-haired boy as he sat, trying to make himself look as small as possible. Then Hermione had noticed the rather unpleasant smell and noise of the very thing Ed was warning them of. She too attempted to disappear into the door.

"You too idiots," Ed had noticed Hermione's awareness "Look past the end of your nose for once!" He waved an exasperated right hand in the direction he wished for them to look, the loud mechanical creaking reminding him he needed to oil the automail.

Then they did look. Then they froze. Then they regained awareness, all at once and in a fluster of flying limbs. They were shouting, exclaiming a manner of unpleasant things as the monster bared its teeth, all three sets. The canine (Ed and Hermione could recall having read that it was called a _Cerberus)_ gnashed its teeth viciously as the eleven-year-olds left the room in the same panicked hurry they had entered it.

Later, they dragged a reluctant Ed to the Gryffindor common room, in which he sat uncomfortably as if waiting to be attacked. Seeing his discomfort, they quickly relocated themselves to the boy's dormitory - admittedly it was the better option due to the business of the common room - and began their conversation there. Looking significantly less awkward, Ed was sitting next to Ron, his legs crossed, his tie hung loose around his necks and his boots still worn in place of the school shoes. Hermione examined him quickly, he obviously had no need nor want to maintain the perfect Windsor knot from earlier. It was slightly odd, she decided, that none of the teachers had picked up on his disregard for the uniform, the heavy red and black combat boots weren't quite synonymous with her definition of subtle.

"What was that thing?!" Ronald Billius Weasley was another example of something not synonymous with her definition of subtle, he was all bright colour, loud voice, flailing limbs and attention-drawing actions.

"A Cerberus." Ed's reply was eerily calm and caused Harry to stare at him, whether at the tone o the answer itself he was unsure.

"A what mate? 'Mione, d'you know 'at?"

"A Cerberus, Ronald. And yes, I did know that as I actually bothered to read the school's assigned reading material. _Fantastic beasts and Where to Find Them_ is a really fascinating book and the book itself isn't excruciatingly biased like all the other books I've read on the topic."

Ed spoke up, seemingly forgetting what was meant to become of the conversation at hand due to his preference of books over people "Though the same can't be said of _A History of magic_ _,_ " He grimaced "They should revise the title - I'd suggest _A selective history of the lighter side of magic that has been made the way it has as to not scare potential customers away from wizardry."_

 _"_ That'd be a pre'y long bookti'le. Take it up with the author maybe? Wha' was her name?"

"Bathilda Bagshot."Ed answered shortly "Sorry Hermione, Harry, I got side-tracked slightly, it may be best to return to the original topic of conversation."

"I agree." harry said, halting any further questions or discussion Ron may initiate.

"Anyway," Hermione dragged that word of initiation to a point at which to became rather unnecessarily long. "did you see what it was standing on."

"Of course." Ed said simply as Ron and harry grew more confused at the progression of the conversation

"No!"

"Honestly? I though Ed told you to look farther than the ends of your noses?"

"Well, I'm sorry," Ron's voice was heavy with a level of sarcasm that actually made Ed rather happy to see - it was familiar - "I was a bit too preoccupied with its heads to look at is feet. In case you didn't notice there were three of them!"

Sensing that the conversation would foreshadow an argument, Ed quickly spoke "A trapdoor."

Ron and Harry turned to look at him "A what?"

"The Cerberus was standing on a trapdoor." he elaborated blandly.

"Ah."

Apparently the word of the Slytherin in Gryffindor tower had spread. That left Ed to deal with the consequences and repercussions his housemates were sure to force him into dealing with. He had been right in assuming that they wouldn't be happy with it. Jeering had accompanied him as he walked to his dorm but he had grown so used to being called a dog that he had become entirely cold to the vicious jeers.

But then Malfoy had decided violence was the way to deal with what he had considered a traitorous mentality. He had sent Crabbe and Goyle charging at Ed as he entered the room. Much like the jeering, the ambush proved dreadfully ineffective as Ed easily skipped to the side of their attack. He sent a cocky smirk at Draco, accompanied by the raising of a single eyebrow.

"Is that all you've got, Brat?" He spat the word out as though it were burning the interior of his mouth more and more each millisecond he dared to hold it in.

" _I'm_ the brat?"

Ed deadpanned "Yes." He spoke in a way befitting of Binns with full intentions to piss the boy off enough to make him leave the room, or at least leave him alone.

It didn't take long for Draco's pinched features to be distorted by an ugly scowl that came with equally as unaesthetically appearence as his newly selected expression. Discreetly, he slipped a hand inside the heavy robes that covered him, drawing his wand with an almost unnoticeable flourish of his wrist.

"Petrificus Totalus!" even before the loud exclamation of the spell a look of smug satisfaction settled on him. It was as if her were saying with nothing more than his expression _"What are you going to do now, Elric? Come on! I know that you're meant to be a genius, surely you can retaliate in some way or other."_

But that was plain arrogance talking, no trace what his abnormally high level of intelligence appearing at all. "Protego." Draco was annoyed to no end by the lazy way he cast the spell. The summoned spell gave him a shield of energy rather than matter that pulsed electric blue. Instead of bouncing back the attack and allowing the spell to ricochet the shield absorbed it and Ed promptly dropped his spell.

"let me sleep Malfoy." he didn't and found himself grasped tightly by the hood of his robes, which was hanging down over his shoulders, despite the boy he had jumped at being shorter than him. He could feel the fabric tighten around his neck as the hand grew closer to his neck and the fabric at the front of it was pulled further back into the tightly flinched as the boy forced a growl out in his direction "Let. me. Sleep. Malfoy."

That time around, the boy had been too terrified to do anything but nod as the presence grew more sinister.


	24. Chapter 24

It was peaceful, too peaceful when the topic at hand was taken into account. They sat around the table, politely chewing on the rock cakes that were more rock than cake and sipping on scolding hot, sugary tea from mugs far too big from them. Hagrid had been kind to them, allowing the four first years to sit comfortably for tea in his wooden hut, sheltering them kindly from the biting cold outside. It was a weekend but, as much as Ron wanted to complain about the lessons and homework of the previous week and spend the day sleeping in, they simply could not relax. There was something happening in the castle that they did not know anything of.

Hagrid had seemed like the best person to go to for answers. After all, he was a member of the Hogwarts staff and so would know the nature of the situation, however he was notoriously loose-lipped and, knowing his love for all misunderstood magical creatures, was probably responsible for the Cerberus residing in the castle. Hermione had been the one that proposed they asked him about it, a notion seconded and complimented by Ed who could see no other alternative that did not come with the risk of them all being expelled. Watching the two in their friendship group who were know for being scarily smart, it had not taken long for harry and Ron to agree on their plan of action.

The very thing had been made easier by Hagrid himself who had no idea what the four eleven-year-olds were plotting. He had provided them with an invitation to have tea with him on that cold day and they had accepted.

That was why they were there, sitting around the large table on equally large chairs, all balancing precariously on a fair few cushions as to be able to see over the table top. Knowing Ed, it was rather miraculous that he had not been offended by the very notion of shortness implied by the situation. As had been agreed through hours of meticulous planning done in harry and Ron's dormitory - something that only worsened Ed's rocky relationship with the Slytherins - Harry was the first to speak up.

"Hagrid, about the third floor?"

"Wha' of i'? Ain't it been declared off limi's?"

"Well yeah," he trailed off, looking to his friends as they encouraged him to keep speaking "Due to error we may have accidentally discovered a three headed dog guarding something there." Though he spoke quickly Hagrid didn't miss a word.

"Yer wha'? Hermione, Ed I'd expect be'er of the two of yer a' leas'!"

Ed couldn't hide his snicker, if anyone from back in Amestris had hard him say such a thing they would have had a similar reaction. "You should really be expecting a lot worse of me. What have I done here to make me look so well behaved?"

As he mused to himself momentarily Hagrid and Harry continued to ague over the exchange of information, leaving the others to sit in silence, distractedly dividing their attention between the argument and inconsequentially mulling over what Hagrid had said.

"But what was it guarding?"

"Enough, tha' information is given on a need-a-know basis! the only ones who know exactly wha' is happenin' are Dumbledore an' Nicholas Flammel!" he froze, eyes widening "Sould not a said tha'. I should not a said tha'."

"Nicholas Flammel?" Ed spoke the name with a familiarity that made all eyes turn to him "Hagrid, you know where I'm from, right?"

"Amestris." He confirmed.

"Right. What's that special military branch over there?"

Hagrid took a while to think as the others sat entirely to confused by the situation to conjure up even the smallest titbit of information Ed may have supplied them with. "The State Alchemists?" Hagrid asked, finally. He grew slightly more worried by his careless release of information, it hadn't occurred to him even once that the basics of alchemy could possibly be common knowledge among Amestrian citizens, as basic as maths to muggles. He knew they were aware that it existed but not that they knew anything beyond that.

"Good." They were beginning to see what Ed had meant by his earlier musings, his tone was ever-so-slightly condescending, just begging for trouble to arise "Any alchemist worth his chalk knows who Nicholas Flammel is. I can't say that I like the bastard but what sort of alchemist would I be if I didn't know a thing about him. I know of a few of his projects, which is being housed in the school?"

"I canno' tell yer that!" Hagrid exclaimed.

But that had given them a pretty big starting point, whether or not Hagrid was willing to surrender any further information was no longer a critical part of their discovery of the goings-on.

"Ed." Hermione wanted to refer back to his earlier words, find out what he had meant exactly when he spoke them "What did you men when you said 'what sort of alchemist would I be'?"

Ed sighed "Hermione, there is literally only one thing that I could've meant when I said that."

"You're an alchemist?" upon receiving a nod from Ed, an incredulous look from Ron and a look of confusion from Harry she continued "But don't you have to be able to memorise a bunch of runes and formulas? Not to mention having an in depth understanding of advanced science and maths?"

"Mmhmm." Ed's only reply was a soft hum, though it was accompanied by a rather sinister smirk.

"Bloody hell! Yer really that smart, mate? Why aren't yer in Ravenclaw?" Ron breathed.

"Because I'm in Slytherin." Was Ed's curt reply, short and quick. "Thank you Hagrid, but I should really be going, it's getting dark." He left abruptly, pulling his cloak tight around his shoulders and running a hand along the length of his braid as he walked.

Harry's eyes flickered from the retreating figure to the sky, computing the dimming of the sky and the fuzzy visage of the full moon that was beginning to appear over head. "We should be going to. Thank you for the cakes and tea Hagrid, we're sorry for being a bother." the moment that they left, closing the old door behind them, Hagrid let out the air he had been holding in and rested his forehead in his hand.

"Tha' could've gone be'er."

"Yer know, I've never seen him on the night of a full moon, not ter mention the gold eyes. Yer reckon Ed could be a werewolf?" Ron asked offhandedly as they walked back towards the large imposing silhouette of the castle before them.

Hermione scoffed her response "Absolutely not, Ron."

Of course, she was right.

Ed had letters to write, among them a report he could tell was going to be rather lengthy. He had wanted to provide himself with the time to write both his brother and friends, though they were all over twice his age, in the military decent letters as well as a report that would not cause him to get a complaint back from Mustang asking for it to be rewritten.

Of course, writing in the Slytherin common room was impossible and it was barely any easier to do in his dormitory. If he were to sit down in the common room he would be ignored for the most part but it was always loud and there was hardly ever room. Every now and then he would catch a little bit of the whispered gossip that floated on the air, about the Slytherin first year who should have been placed elsewhere. he wasn't going to admit it, but he was starting to like being called "The Sorting hat's One Mistake." because it meant that those bigots didn't believe that he was like them, nor did anyone else. But still, there would be people tugging on his braid to get a rise out of him as he tried to write, an action often followed by the culprit being punched in the nose with Ed's left arm before he continued to casually work on his letters.

But the common room was were Draco spent almost all of his time outside of lessons and he was always accompanied by at least one, usually more, of his friends. The quiet boy whose name Ed had actually never bothered to learn that had ignored him from the very first day would always take a break from whatever it was that he was doing to send him a dirty look before returning to his previous activities. Like normal, Draco and his friends were sitting on the chairs in the room, set out in a circle and conversing loudly. They didn't even try to lower their voices as they exchanged rumours about Ed who had settled himself on the floor on the other side of the room to write. In fact, Ed very much suspected that they were merely mocking him like nearly everybody else. It was obvious that they didn't realise just how accustomed he had become to taunting, he had had to become accustomed to the taunts that called him a dog wherever he went. Pansy chortled loudly, snorting slightly as she giggled unattractively at a particularly foul rumour Draco had told her.

Ed merely sighed as the quill in his hand dripped slightly onto the parchment. He was actually very grateful for the fact that he wrote all of his letters in Amestrian, he was sure Draco would find a way to tease him about their contents if not, especially the ones addressed to his brother.

He only sent letters once a month. It wasn't fair on Onyx to send her flying across to another country too frequently but his monthly reports were mandatory if he wanted to get paid. She flew over to Amestris once a month and back almost directly after. It had taken a few weeks of data but Ed had calculated the amount of time that it would take for Onyx to complete the journey and had learnt to compensate for that when the time came to send off the report.

Finally, everything was written, ready to be sent off the following morning. By that time evening had been and gone, along with dinner. Sighing and wishing that he had kept track of time, for midnight had already fallen and the world around him had been plunged into darkness, he rolled up his excess parchment, put his writings into envelopes, closed his inkwell and wiped the excess ink off of his quill. After quickly putting those away, letters into the bottom draw of his bedside table and quill, ink and remaining unused parchment into his bag, and turning off the light he changed hurriedly before falling into his bed and drawing the curtains. He was asleep the moment his head had hit the pillow.

Despite his late night, Ed had woken up as early as always and jogged around the grounds before finally eating. The moment he heavily took his seat at the Gryffindor table he stuffed food into his face, earning himself an odd look from Hermione who had looked up from her book.

He didn't need to hear her question to answer "I missed dinner yesterday."

"Ah."

They discussed their plans for finding out just which one of Flammel's creations was being hidden within the school. They decided that they should take to the library to search both the relevant wizards and the alchemy sections.

"I know quite a bit about a fair few of his projects, not all of them, but the knowledge shared between the wizarding world and the alchemists could differ slightly, that or one group may have a more in depth knowledge." Ed had told her as reasoning for why he wished to take their search their.

"Meaning?"

"It could narrow down our search."

At last, harry and Ron came down. Ron was rather mortified at the news that they would have to prowl the library on a search for answers.

"Oh come on! It's nearly Christmas - half term is next week! Shouldn't we be relaxing?"

"No." Hermione didn't beat around the bush with her answer.

Ed raised a hand slightly "Shouldn't we be telling the clueless foreigner what Christmas is?"

"How do you not know what Christmas is?" Ron almost yelled.

"I feel like I'm having Deja vu." Ed began to muse "Probably because we've had this exact same conversation before!" a vein popped on his forehead slightly.

Before anything could continue on any further harry spoke up "So, library after lessons then?"


	25. Chapter 25

Ron was looking around him, genuinely intimidated by the seemingly endless stack of old books that surrounded him; the very same that Ed and Hermione were navigating with the ease that was associated with familiarity. It had been a unanimous decision, after Ed had shared the information of his alchemic knowledge with them, that he would be the only one who was to look through the alchemy books. It seemed to have been the right decision – as Ed had admitted to expecting, they were all coded and many were written in other languages. Ron had looked to his side as they sat around the desk that was only made for three, seeing Ed sitting on the floor beside him, legs crossed and surrounded by books as though they would create some kind of fortress that would actually protect him should someone decided that they had a vendetta that warranted an attack, and he could not understand even the slightest bit of the jargon that filled the pages.

He had never practiced a technique for extracting important information from texts as it seemed Ed and Hermione had and it was taking him a long time to laboriously work through the dusty pages of the books, some of which surely hadn't been touched in centuries. It hadn't been long before the faded lettering that filled the pages merged into a stretch of uneven, undecipherable greying black that drifted across his vision, gradually slowing as he looked over it with decreasing levels of enthusiasm.

"Ugh." Carelessly, he dumped the hick tome, beginning to grow heavy in his hands, ono the table with a resonating thud that echoed in the near-empty room and earned him a look of disapproval and a sharp shush from Madame Pince.

Harry looked at him, nodded one and set his own book down on the table in front of him, placing it with significantly more care than Ron had. He exhaled deeply, making a loud enough noise to awaken Hermione from her reading trance. She looked over them in curiosity as Ed continued to diligently work through his assigned texts.

"What is it? Have you found anything?"

Ron groaned again. "More the opposite, 'Mione. I thin' I've los' me will to live!"

"Honestly Ronald! It's just a little bit of reading."

Waving his arms before him frantically, almost knocking a few books off of the overly full table in front of them, he replied with no shortage of incredulity "A little?"

Ed shut his book, placing it behind him and casually picking his next one from a seemingly random place among his haphazard pile "Yes Ron." He confirmed so Hermione had no need to "A little."

"I think you two need ta pick up a dictionary." He complained "You can stay in here like crazy people bu't I'm goin' to bed. Harry, mate, you coming?"

"Sorry, Ed, Hermione. I have to agree with Ron. We've been here for hours and we haven't found anything. Besides, I'm too tired to read properly. Good night?"

"Good night then. We won't be too long. You _are_ staying, right Ed?"

"I fully intend to stay until I am literally forced out of those doors."

Hermione beamed at that declaration as Ed merely stuck his face back into the heavy text that sat on his lap, spreading off-white lines of dust over his black school uniform. It hadn't been their first day of research but they still hadn't found anything and Ed wasn't sure just how much of his knowledge the alchemist had shared with the wizarding world.

Harry was still awake when Hermione came back. She was stumbling into the common room, empty apart from himself, while rubbing her eyes and yawning. She looked at him though bleary eyes that were fighting to stay open.

"What are you still doing up?"

"Homework for Snape. I forgot I still had to do it." He yawned himself.

"Are you nearly done?"

"Just finished it." He confirmed as he scooped up his ink, quill and parchment and began to retreat to his dorm. "Good night."

"Good night." With those parting words, they both retreated to their respective dorms.

Ed had checked out the remainder of his books that he had not gotten around to reading and had kept true to his promise of staying in the library until he was forced out. It was a Saturday so he was not particularly concerned about sleeping early enough to wake up on time and still retain his concentration the following day. That had been the direct influence between his choice to stay up, sitting on his bed with the curtain closed around him and his lit wand point acting as a reading light. He couldn't help but think that he was the only one awake in the entire building, except for, maybe, Argus Filch.

It wasn't until light began to wash into the room, creeping down the stairs slowly and failing to illuminate anything, that he finally found something that could be of help to him. It wasn't anything much, but the note from the author at the end redirected him to the writings of another author who he assumed was a friend of the one whose writings that he was reading.

At breakfast, he had shared the knowledge with Hermione who had instantly declared her own (non-existent) stupidity and declared that she had checked out the only book that the aforementioned author had ever written a while ago for light reading and would look through it later to see what she could find. Harry had accepted the news readily and Ron had celebrated, glad to finally be able to stop with his studies.

It was cold outside, as one would expect of Winter, but still that was where Hermione had found Ed that afternoon. Predictably, harry and Ron had been lounging in the common room, working through the homework that they had left to the last minute, but she hadn't been able to find the blonde Slytherin anywhere. She was doubtful that she would be able to find him there, but still she checked outside and found Ed basking in the winter sun, wrapped tightly in his cloak with his back pressed against a tree, sleeping lightly.

She knew he hadn't gotten a wink of sleep the night before and was slightly hesitant in waking him, though she finally decided that it was for the better. She shook him shoulder, waking him from the light, seemingly uncomfortable, snooze.

"Mm?" he looked up at her sleepily.

"I found it!"

He woke up instantly "What did it say?"

"That he was 'the only known creator of the Philosopher's Stone'."

Ed took a moment to mull over that "That's a lie." He concluded "Hermione, do you know what the Philosopher's Stone is?"

"It produces the elixir of life and can turn any metal into gold."

"I suppose Philosopher's Stones are different things in magic and alchemy then." He reasoned.

"What does it do in alchemy."

"I suppose that the best thing to call it would be a catalyst, it alters the rate and result of a transmutation. There are laws in alchemy and it allows you to surpass them. However, lots of people consider them a myth."

"You don't think that it is a real Philosopher's Stone?"

"I don't. If it were a real one, it would probably be under much stronger protection than you could find in a school. Besides, I know a fair bit about that man and the real stones and I've never heard anybody creating a link between the two of them."

"But it can still grant immortality." Hermione reasoned.

Ed sighed "Just because it's not real doesn't mean that it's not dangerous. Whether it's real or not we need to get it before anybody else can. Something tells me that it isn't safe."

Hermione relayed the information she had gathered back to Harry and Ron, the former instantly beginning to construct a conspiracy in his mind. He remembered their detention from so long ago, the one where they had found the strange, suspicious figure ready to attack and prying on unicorns. As he pondered it further he couldn't help but ponder the severe limp he had seen Snape suffering from.

As he saw his friends at dinner that night he shared his conspiracy. He found that it was met with no shortage of scepticism from Ed, though Ron did agree that it was a plausible explanation. Hermione just refused to believe that a teacher would act in such a way.

On the last day of that half Term, Hermione had found Harry and Ron siting at the Gryffindor table, accompanied by very few people. Ed sat by their side, acting like the honorary Gryffindor that they had accepted him as, nagging Harry about his complete lack of strategy in the game that was being played. She walked over to her three friends and eyes said game with a hint of disgust.

"That's barbaric." She spoke in response to one of the figures being violently torn down with a hit from the another.

" _That's_ wizard's chess." Ron responded.

She eyed him "I thought that you were going home for the holidays."

"Change of plans. My Mum and dad are going to visit my brother Charlie in Romania over Christmas." He informed her before sending a look at Ed "Because they know what Christmas is in Romania."

"I'm not Romanian!" Ed exclaimed. "Anyway, we need to research on what the wizarding world considers the Philosopher's stone to be."

"He's right." Hermione agreed.

"But we've already looked everywhere!" the response received was spoken in protest.

The look that overtook Ed's face was nothing if not evil, the tone of voice used to accompany it sinister "Not in the restricted section we haven't."

"Why did we ever think that you were well behaved?" Ron groaned.

"That's on you." Ed told him as Hermione wrestled with her heavy trunk.

"How am I going to get this down to the train?" she asked, not expecting an answer.

"I'll take it down for you." Ed told her "This is getting sad." He jabbed a gloved hand over his shoulder, drawing the chess game occurring between the two Gryffindors to her attention as another of Harry's pieces was lost to one of Ron's.

"Thank you. Are you sure you're okay with it?"

"Absolutely."

"I've been meaning to ask," she began as they set foot into the cold outdoors "But why aren't you going home? You've said that you missed your brother and you're not going to see him when you have the chance to do so."

"My boss is a bastard. He'd make me work if I went home. Besides, he has requested that I stay here and investigate about the stone."

"Boss? You never told me that you had a job." They walked in silence for a moment as a follow up to her statement, Ed easily lugging her trunk over his right shoulder, until she stopped abruptly, met with a realisation that, for the first time since she could remember, she hoped was wrong.

"What?" he looked back at her, surprised.

"You were talking to Hagrid about State Alchemists. Where do you work?" Seeing him grow uneasy, she questioned him further "You're a State Alchemist, aren't you? I've always thought that you were smart Ed, so how could you be _so stupid?"_

"Necessity overcomes logic sometimes Hermione. I know I'm stupid, I know."

She didn't know why she was so upset "Don't you dare go and get yourself killed. I've been reading up on Amestris, you're just their weapon Ed! A child soldier!"

"I know." He sounded resigned. She knew she shouldn't question him further, besides, she hadn't much time left to board the train.

"I hope you realise that this conversation isn't over."

"Of course not. I doubt it will ever be."

He followed her into the train, slung her trunk onto the overhead rack and left with a simple wave of goodbye. She had never thought to question it before, but the realisation she had made had begun to make her question the odd, metallic groaning that followed Ed everywhere. She didn't know what it was but she knew that it wasn't normal.


	26. Chapter 26

Ron, being the only one believing he had any thing to look forward to, was the first of the trio up on Christmas. He had wasted no time in bounding to Harry's bed, wide awake from the moment his eyes snapped open, and shaking his shoulder until he was pulled roughly from both his peaceful sleep and the warm embrace of his duvet. He fell to the floor with a loud thud and a louder groan. It was incoherent but Ron assumed he had at least intended for the weird grunt to mean "Why?"

So he answered the question he believed that he was being asked. "Presents!" he exclaimed, no willing to spend any more time sitting around and doing nothing.

Harry went wide eyed, staring at his friend with emerald eyes still blurred from sleep, fluttering closed and forcefully pulled open. "I have presents?" He never got presents with the Dursleys, not for Christmas nor his birthday.

Ron excitedly nodded and led Harry to both piles. There was a significantly larger pile addressed to Ron than him but he was not surprised and was very surprised by how much he had actually received. But then he paused, halfway to grabbing at a squishy-looking gift. "Ed!"

"Huh?" Ron spoke through a mouth of chocolate.

"Edward Elric." He spoke slowly, deliberately, as though speaking to a young child.

"Wha'abou' 'im?" Ron was shoving the other half of the chocolate frog into his mouth, more interesting in eating the large pile of sweets that sat in front of him, they hadn't been wrapped, than talking to Harry.

"Should we go and get him?"

"How? We don' know how to ge' into the Slytherin Common Room and it's not like he'll be up yet anyway."

"You sure, do you not remember that torturous jog?"

"Ugh, don't remind me. I s'pose it won't hurt to try." He conceded with a grimace left on his face from the mere idea of that jog.

As it would turn out, they didn't have to worry about their inability to get into the Slytherin Common Room. They met Ed on their way. He was wearing the outfit he had been when Harry had first met him as well as the one he had been wearing when he had seen him on the train again. harry was beginning to think he probably just had few copies of it. He was shivering, cheeks flushed red, eyes watering, hands shaking and lips chapped with cold. He let out a heavy breath, clouding the air before him and allowing them to witness as it moved and left. As they neared Harry could see that the coat was slightly different, thicker and rimmed with fleece as though it had been made for the winter. The gloves he wore were thicker too.

Ron smiled, a little awkwardly, as he realised that he never really spoke to Ed about anything but homework or classwork without Hermione's presence. "Merry Christmas." He wasn't sure what else he could say, he was aware that Ed didn't celebrate the holiday but it really seemed to be the only thing that came to mind quick enough.

He was rather surprised to see Ed smile slightly "Thanks, you too. Same to you Harry. Would you believe that I actually got presents?"

Ron nodded, knowing that one was probably from his own mother as he had mentioned his unlikely friendship with the Slytherin a fair few times in his letters. "Of course I would!"

Harry smiled in agreement before awkwardly launching them into a conversation that he felt they would all be able to participate in equally. Harry wasn't quite sure how but they had found themselves subconsciously wandering back towards the Gryffindor Common Room. save the remaining Weasleys, they had it to themselves and Ed was glad, no more rumours for at least a brief while. He could sit in the large, warm, comfortable room and enjoy himself for the first time in one of his visits. He laughed at Fred and George as they paraded around in each other's traditional Weasley Christmas jumpers, jumping over furniture and setting up pranks for their friends when they got back after the half term. Harry had been shocked to see that he had also got one of the same jumpers and, after Percy had generously cast a summoning charm to bring Ed's gifts to where he was, so was Ed. Ed had to smile, the black jumper with his first initial emblazoned in red smelt familiar, like the family he had missed for years. He had swapped his coat for the jumper and was wallowing in the familiarity of the scent.

Wool was something he was familiar with because he grew up in a farming town. The scent was grounding, a change from the constant wandering that he had been dong since gaining his state qualification. Ron watched as both he and Harry seemed entirely miffed at receiving the same thing that he got every year and never really thought about much. He didn't understand how hey could be so surprised, harry that he had got a gift and Ed at the way Mrs. Weasley, a woman he had never even met, already reminded him a fair bit of his own mother.

Ed supposed that Christmas was quite a bit like the Summer Solstice festivals he had attended as a young child in Resembool, gifts and family, enjoyment that spread between everyone from family to strangers (not that there were many in a town as small as the one he considered his own). He didn't know how much he had missed celebrations like that one until he was pushed into the midst of one. That at was one of the best he had had in a while, it seemed that even the deep set ache he felt in his ports had decided to leave that day, despite the bitter cold.

Harry had received a rather strange present, one from an anonymous sender, that none of the Weasleys, well versed in the culture of the British magical society, were unsurprised to see: a cloak of invisibility. Initially it had been a thing to laugh at, to think of just how they could reap the benefits of it. But then Ed had began to think a bit like Mustang, he wondered just what, should he be able to find his own to bring 'home' that would do to his success rate on his missions. Thinking of the bastard, Ed's mind wandered to the Amestrian military and whether those outside of Mustang's squad had caught word of this development yet. he supposed it all may just have been grounds for a promotion.

Quickly, he ditched the train of thought. He watched it fall for miles, never hitting the floor of the dark pit he had quickly thrown it into. He wouldn't say he liked Mustang and was even less likely to admit that he, even if only momentarily, had begun to think like him. he snapped himself promptly back into the reality unravelling in front of him and all of its joyousness. Maybe, just maybe, he'd have to bring back the celebration with him to celebrate with Al and his friends from the military, including Hughes' daughter who was already fast approaching the first anniversary of her birth.

At some point, as the day progressed onwards, they had all fallen outside in a disorganized huddle, bar Percy who had opted to remain inside to study. It had been George's idea and they had all agreed - they were going o play outside in the snow like little children. In Resembool snow was a hard thing to come by, Ed had seen t maybe once in his life before coming to England, and Ron had been rather shocked at having to explain so much as the rules and concept of a snowball fight to him.

At the beginning the snow was marred by only a thin line of footsteps lined the grounds, slowly filling again as the snow continued to fall around them, and the fresh ones that trailed them. The pure white gleamed underneath the bright but cool sun that beamed down at them from the ghostly pale blue of the sky that stretched for miles above, marred by clouds that were dulled by the pearly blanket that crunched underfoot. By the end the snow had been stacked messily into several poorly constructed shields of sorts that stood at different heights and thicknesses swell as a few, perfectly built and structurally strong, built by Ed's casual use of alchemy. None of them had ever seen him use the ancient power before and had been semi surprised that the jagged zig-zags of piercing blue light that flashed across the snow that they had made uneven didn't even begin to melt it. They had all been fascinated until he used it to form functioning weapons that launched snowballs their way, such as a large canon that had buried Harry almost entirely under three shots. hen Fred and George just pretended to be pissed off, seeing as they had, too, lost to him, but secretly they thought of just how they would be able to use the power.

They moved inside again once people had begun to sneeze, sniffling and shivering. The snowflakes that had danced through the air now posed in everyone's hair, glittering along the length of Ed's braid as it slowly came loose. After they stepped back into the candlelight hallways of their grand school they began to melt fast, dripping from the ends of their hair and onto their backs, melting into the clothes where they had covered them completely beforehand. For all except Ed the snow seeped through the material of their shoes, leaking in frm both above and, in Ron's case, through the tattered lining of the stitching by the sole.

Thy had all rushed to the showers and turned on the hot water. Ed could feel the heat soaking into his ports from the moment he had tuned it on, melting the slight amount of tension that he began to build and soothing the omnipotent stinging of the scars.

That night harry ad put the cloak to use, not taking Ron with him as the other boy had been asleep and it had just seemed right to do it that way. Hogwarts was dark, not entirely but lit only by gentle lamplight that allowed teachers without the curse of a curfew to find their way among the many twists and turns. He slipped into the library noiselessly, barely registering the all-too-familiar sight of the main section a he headed straight to the bordered off restricted section that he had never gained permission to enter. Sucking I a breath and trapping it in his lungs, he stepped over the red rope that hung at about his mid thigh at its lowest point and hoped he would not knock the metal posts that suspended it there from either side. As his first foot hit solid ground he only sucked in more air and felt his chest grown tight and painful. With the placing of the second he expelled the air all a once, feeling his lungs retract and the pain diminish with a sense of relief.

He strolled through the isles, lit lamp in hand and cloak draped over his head. There were a few instances here he could very easily see why they were kept in that section of the library and not the one that he was actually allowed in.

He was lost among the strange titles and strange qualities the books possessed, wishing he had Ed with him, or, at the very least, Ed's knowledge - all of it.

Innocently, he had clasped the spine f a book in his hand. It was untitled. he pulled it from the shelf quickly and couldn't cover his ears as it fell into his hand. It began to shriek, that awful screaming that hurts the ears and passes on emotion like a contagious disease. it was a pitiful noise, high and shrill, but he had to escape it as quickly a he possibly could.

Filch's voice was rounding the corner. His own lantern was the source behind an eerie orange glow that filled Harry's eyes with a piercing sting. His shadow loomed, taller than his frame and slimmer, jagged and sharp at the edges.

Trapped with no other options, harry dropped both things in his hands to the floor. the book did not stop screaming as it hit the floor with a flat bang. The lantern went out, smashing upon contact and scattering tiny fractals of glass as far as the eye could see. he sent a moment looking from side to side before pulling the cloak over his head again, for it had slipped when things began to go wrong, and ran.

He bolted down the halls until he didn't know where he was anymore, the corridors at Hogwarts were confusing to navigate but he, mostly, know where he was going by now. He was lost and still half convinced that he could hear Mr. Norris' informative mewing somewhere no too far into the distance. he saw only one option; he slipped through the sole door in the corridor and pressed his back to he door, feeling his lungs ache again.

The room seemed to have once been a classroom but t was clear it was no longer in use. Dust covered everything like the snow over the ground outside and something that clearly did not belong in a classroom stood in the room.

The mirror glinted gold beneath the dust and, with one last aural check for Filch or his demon cat, harry walked towards it. His feet unsettled the dust beneath them and he thought of just how strange it was hat he was reminded so strongly of the fun afternoon when he was as scared as he was. he felt his breath tremble on both its way out and in, the uneven noise accompanied by the deliberately slow footsteps he simply could not completely silence.

He stopped a few feet from the glass, completely clouded over with dust, and looked straight forwards. he couldn't see himself, there was no reflection held in that glass. Timidly he extended a hand before him and wiped away the screen of dust, revealing his reflection.

But there was a little more to it.

He didn't remember his parents but he knew that the man and woman who stood to either side of him, hands rested on his shoulders and smiling like the perfect parents he was sure they would have been, were them. His dad looked a lot like him, just larger and without the wire framed glasses Hermione had fixed for him, and his mum, with her sleek red hair, looked a lot less like him. However, the eyes he saw shining out of her face were definitely his.

He didn't understand what he was seeing and sitting before the mirror, legs crossed at the ankles and knees pulled up beneath his chin, didn't lead him to discovering. Eventually, breath still shaky even if for an entirely new reason, he stood and left.

All the while Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore watched. Things were stating to fall into place. The assembly of the puzzle had only just began.

 **A/N I am so sorry for the millennia this took me to upload, I don't have a great excuse my motivation to do anything at all productive left me and my wifi decided it would enjoy screwing up. What can you do? I digress...**

 **I've gotten a couple of reviews asking abut pairings for the later books (since I mentioned plans to turn this into series) and I want to now what people think. Should I keep it gen? keep it canon? Or are there other pairings that people would like to see? In no way, shape or form do I claim to be a spectacular romance writer so it wouldn't be anything major but it would still be there. So, if you have any particularly strong feelings on the matter feel free to PM me or leave a review telling me what you think I should do. You can request that I don't put any romance, that I keep things canon or that I insert a pairing (of your choice) and I'll go with the majority. that said, I will not be writing pairings that I feel are kind of unhealthy. Ifyou want an explanation on this, again, leave it in a review or Pm, and I'll explain.**

 **Well, that's that.**

 **~We'reAllABitOdd**


	27. Chapter 27

The minute Hermione got back to Hogwarts she found Ed, tucking into his lunch on the last day before school began once again, and took him roughly by the sleeve. She made a shoving motion before he sighed and followed resignedly but obediently.

The corridor that she had brought him to was a fairly obscure one, hardly ever wandered by students and housing only classrooms that were no longer in use.

He crouched down, elbows resting atop his knees and his back pushed up against the wall, as she sat on the other side of the narrow hallway, legs crossed tightly beneath her and casual trousers smoothed of all creases. Ed's shoulders were pushed forwards, just in front of his elbows as he looked straight at Hermione, expression one of challenging curiosity.

"I did a bit of research." It would normally have been a beginning to a statement but she ended it with such finality that Ed had no doubt that it formed the entirety of one. He smirked slightly and cocked an eyebrow.

"What did that accomplish?" He urged, failing to keep the humour out of his voice that let Hermione know exactly what she did.

"You know exactly what that accomplished!" she exclaimed in response with no lack of frustration. "I don't get it!" That was one thing that she had always hated admitting, all the way from primary school, her lack of understanding. "There is only one thing that I can find about Amestris online and that's where it is! I think that it is further from England than you believe by the way, I don't honestly understand how you got here by train." Ed had leant back so that his shoulders were resting against the wall. He shrugged. "There's nothing about history, ruler, military, not even cuisine or travel! There's nothing that would be of consequence and not anything that would not be!" She was completely exasperated.

She grew so flustered so quickly as she ranted about her lack of understanding that Ed had to hand a comprehensible answer to her, the only one that he could think of personally as to why she had been thrown into the knowledge-less spiral that he knew would appear.

"Technology in Amestris is fairly behind and the country itself is pretty closed off which is, admittedly, most likely the reason. The Fuhrer will not expand on our political links and travel is so heavily monitored that I am genuinely curious as to how Dumbledore managed to get Hagrid in"

Hermione inhaled deeply. "Look, I can't find an explanation for myself and you know that I hate not knowing." She waited for him to nod before continuing "So tell me. Something, _anything!_

It was Ed's turn to fill his lungs with more air than he needed, swiftly exhaling it a moment later almost as a way to drag out the time before he had to talk. Mustang would have his head if he knew that his secret was out and he was probably digging himself into a deeper hole by having the conversation that he currently was.

"What do you want to know?"

Hermione was slightly disappointed that she had waited that short eternity for a that told her nothing. "Tell me about you." She insisted. "Tell me a bit about the state alchemists and how exactly this is applicable to yourself."

"State alchemists have to pass both a practical test and theory one to be given the job that they desire, they sometimes hold interviews as well. As alchemy is a subject with so many variations and different ways to accomplish each Alchemists with a state certification tend to have a specialisation. Of course, we all know our way around basic alchemy because it is essential that you start there, where mistakes are not going to be catastrophic. These specialisations are where our so-called 'second names' come from. The test is extremely hard and an alchemist has to be able to maintain a high enough level to pass their yearly examination annually. Of course, that is only if you can pass the test itself.

If you do pass the test then you receive the rank of an officer; you instantly become a Major." He almost mentioned that alchemists were also those called to the frontlines to get them out of tight spots when the situation seemed dire but thought better of it when he realised that Hermione was going to have his head already and saying something such as that would be mere suicidal idiocy.

"What's your name?" Hermione's voice pierced the silence that had been allowed to settle with the conclusion of Ed's brief explanation.

"Pardon?" Ed had to admit he had not entirely been paying attention to the world around him once he stopped speaking and Hermione had asked her question so out of the blue that its meaning had been lost in translation.

"Your alchemist name." She reiterated.

"Oh. Right. Sorry." Ed shook his head slightly before actually supplying Hermione with an answer. "The Fullmetal Alchemist." He kept the answer short and sweet, consisting of as little information as he believed that Hermione would accept of him.

"What's your specialisation?"

"That's a bit of hard one." he admitted "That's something of a generalisation and I am something of an exception."

It was hermione's turn to shake her head, frizzy hair bouncing against her shoulders and neck before falling into her face as she halted the action. She huffed and pushed it back with the heel of her hand, not caring where on her head it fell. "Of course you are." she breathed "So you're a Major?"

"I am." He confirmed simply. He drew his pocketwatch from his pocket, flipped it open, glanced momentarily at the clock face and snapped it shut once again. Hermione stubbornly did not miss the rather intriguing design adorning the surface that faced her. "We really should get going now, if we head over to the library now and don't dilly-dally we may just be able to get there before our 'study group'" The words were illustrated with a smile Hermione couldn't quite bring herself to believe and air quotes that spoke of a lack of maturity she had only recently began to believe was present in her mystery of a friend "Gets curious."

"But _I'm_ curious!" Hermione pressed with the depletion of her own maturity in that moment.

"But you can ask at another time. I don't want to have to try to explain his away - I'm not the best of liars."

"Really? You seem like you'd be the type." There was an abundance of snarkiness in her voice.

"To what? Lie myself out of a situation? I live by the rule of 'act now, ask questions later.'"

"Why do I feel like you have a lot of enemies, Ed."

"I believe I am well within my rights to refuse to answer. Now, hurry up!"

Swiftly, he urged her to continue walking towards the library, making her move faster than she believed her legs could carry her as he sprinted ahead himself.

He was already in the library by the time that she arrived. She wasted not a moment in collapsing against the door, legs braced and barely holding her upright. She focused her gaze upwards, looking straight into his piercing gold eyes as he deadpanned "I blame you for that." She desperately tried to regain her capability to breathe before responding "A least you're in better shape than I am."

He offered no explanation, turning his head and extending his left hand behind him. As she took it and allowed him to haul her to her feet she felt her attention being drawn back to his right arm. It still made the subtle metallic noises she felt she was growing used to and he never seemed to offer it out to be touched.

Even if she was unaware of what exactly it was, there was something rather odd happening with her friend.

"We're in a school of magic but I think you may just be the strangest thing here." She mumbled, careful to suppress her tone so that he would not hear it.

He did nothing to indicate he had heard so she chose to believed that she had accomplished her desired result.

She had been thinking so much that she failed to notice as he began on his way to the old wooden desk at which they often sat and was forced to do a sort of weird mixture of jogging and walking to keep up so she could maintain what little energy she had managed to regain. The usual crowd of students was already there, plus a few extra. Neither of the two first years had any doubt that they were all hurrying to complete some last minute homework that they had not found the effort to complete during the holidays.

Both took their seats heavily and began as usual, working on what they wished while mostly ignoring the crowd surrounding them unless they were addressed specifically, in which case hermione could be the only one to answer as Ed had dived headfirst into the depths of his reading material.

The night passed without another hitch, at least until hermione resigned back to Gryffindor Tower and allowed herself to wade through the thoughts filling her mind.

She wanted to remove the shroud of mysteries and secrets cloaking her friend, finding out just what he was hiding and why. To her not knowing was one of that worst things she could think of but that was something that Ed never gave her reprieve from. Not only did he seem to know everything but he also seemed to keep any answers about himself hidden away like the oldest vaults in the wizarding bank of Gringotts.

That may have been why she had lied slightly. She supposed it wasn't entirely a lie, she had found very little about Amestris online. It was more of a selective release of truth.

She had found a book for sale over the internet. The book was old and being sold from a fairly unreliable source that had claimed the book to have been useful for them earlier in life but it had since become useless as they had gleaned all they could from it.

She had found a book on the language of Amestris and had seen ed reading books on alchemy found in the Hogwarts library written in it.

She had yet to so much as open the book.

The first time she did so was that night. The yellowing pages felt slightly damp beneath her fingers, creased from where they had been turned and irritatingly dog-eared where the past owner had wished to bookmark pages. Had they not heard of bookmarks?

Putting her opinions aside she grabbed the notepad she had purchased at the same time as the book itself and began to diligently study as Lavender and her friends walked into the dormitory, purposely ignoring her completely.

The evening faded to night as she read her book by the light generated by her wand-point. Time passed by her completely; she found it to be the early hours of morning by the time she decided to retire from her studies and sleep before the first day of school after the enjoyable Christmas she had spent with her family.

Ever since he had began to converse with Hermione so many hours before Ed had felt as though someone were eavesdropping. That feeling had not depleted despite the length of their conversation and the loss of interesting conversation topics when they had travelled to the library.

That feeling continued to linger even as he lay in the silence of the dormitory long past lights-out. Crabbe and Goyle could be heard snoring loudly, their deep, throaty sounds mingling with the shrill hooting of owls in a way that grated unpleasantly upon the ears. He could see nothing but impenetrable darkness as he stared up in the direction of the stone ceiling overhead.

He was sure he should be tired; sure he should have been asleep hours before; sure he would feel the effects the following day. He could not bring himself to care, it was not as though he were unfamiliar with the feelings associated with staying up overnight. He wasn't sure who or how but someone was watching him and it was stopping him from finding refuge in Morpheus' realm.

Of course, the eavesdropper himself couldn't help but smile. While he had no ill intentions there was still a fair bit to be gained should he play his cards right. He felt as though he were playing chess. He had many pawns to play with, maybe a few more than he actually needed, but those with whom he meddled the most played bigger part.

He had never been good at chess and did not often play. As such, he was unfamiliar with the roles of many pieces. However, it was more than likely that those who were like chess pieces in his hands, one in particular, would be able to tell him.

He supposed that it would be easier to look at things as he had been previously, as puzzle pieces rather than the pieces of a strategy game he could not play. The latter outlook may have led him to finding complications.

The former was an easy thing to observe through half-moon spectacles. In puzzles there was only one correct way to go about things. In chess there were too many different ways to win and too many ways to lose. Chess was too risky and this was just the beginning.

He would admit he had learned more that he may find helpful in that day than he had been expecting. It was almost too good to be true. The plans he had made were long term and may have been somewhat touch and go, but now the probability of their success had increased by a minimum of tenfold.

But that was only if the puzzle piece he decided he would have to keep a closer eye on decided to play into his hands.

He was slightly scared. It was almost laughable: Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore reduced to such a state of nervousness by a mere student who had shown himself to be something so much more.


	28. Chapter 28

There were too many suspicious things in Hogwarts; secrets of the magical world that really should not have been trusted in a school were housed there. Knowing that there was strange magical substance of unknown origin and production within the school that could do such things as it was said it could was unsettling to the minute group of students who were aware of such a problem.

The teachers themselves did not seem the most trustworthy bunch either, at least not when one were to know more and look deeper. Snape had walked with a limp for a fair while, hobbling along on a leg that he did not appear willing to put pressure on. Not only that, harry had seen something suspicious when going out one night with his invisibility cloak draped over his head, covering him from head to toe.

He had been wandering past curfew, another search for that mirror his goal. It wasn't the most innocent of things when that was exactly what he was not meant to be doing. Still, things took a sharp turn for the worst when a familiar figure, draped in its own cloak (however this one did not hide their image), rounded the corner and came clearly into Harry's view.

He held his breath and stood for a moment, waiting for the man to pass before he did, not daring to move in any way as he was scared to make a noise as it may be detectable to the, what he assumed was bat-like, hearing of the Slytherin head-of-House.

He was scared he had failed for when the man turned so he was staring directly at him, cloak flying out around him like wings so dark they disappeared in the thick shadow of the dim hallway.

Those eyes were half open, hanging threateningly in a deathly pale face,made all the more sallow by the dank curtains of greasy hair that framed it. The thin lips of the untrusting mouth twitched as the eyes widened slightly and the dark eyebrows shifted upwards. A bony, slender hand the colour of parchment reached within the depths of the robe, drawing a thin wand, almost as dark as the heavy fabric it as drawn from, held by an ornate grip that distinguish it from a plain, mundane stick.

Terrified, Harry clamped his teeth down on the inside of his cheek and felt his widen as the man before him, with a barely noticeable twitch of his wrist, flicked his wand in a sharp, elegant movement. When nothing before him changed the man turned on his heel once again, apparently satisfied, and , with lengthy strides that, when hidden beneath the heavy folds of his cloak, made him seem to be gliding, he retreated.

The wand found its way back into the depths of the robe and the hand closed around the cold, metal handle of one of the many doors as the man strode through with confidence.

Quickly, Harry shuffled his feet rapidly beneath him, moving as quickly and quietly as he could as to not further alert the man something was amiss and also not to lose him.

He slipped through the door just as it closed, narrowly avoiding hitting the extended arm of his potions teacher.

There was someone waiting in that corridor, someone whose presence Hary found rather surprising. Shivering nervously, hugging himself tightly with hands that quivered clasped around his thin shoulders, seeming unbalanced with the extra weight of his large turban perched upon his head, face as pale as ever and contorted beyond belief with a sense of apparent dread, was Professor Quirrell.

Snape swept the room with his eyes, moving his head slowly and not disturbing the stiff ebony strands of hair that lay frozen across his head. He noted the ornate picture frames that littered the walls, all covered in thick blankets of dust and entirely vacant. The floor beneath his feet emitted a cloud of dust with each step taken, the grey cloud lingering before him as he walked, creating an almost fog-like mist for him to emerge from as he approached the stuttering man before him who was failing to grasp for words.

The look on Snape's face as he set his dark, heavy-lidded eyes on the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was one of pure, unadulterated abhorrence. He took another step, one more than necessary, and began to exude an air of sick satisfaction as the other man shrunk down more and backed into the wall as Snape loomed over him, a thin figure shrouded in a black so dark it was existentially challenging, white within the dark fabric, Quirrell felt almost as though he were being shadowed by death itself.

"Well." Snape's voice was smoother than it had ay right to be, long and drawn out, remaining in the air before them tenaciously and pressingly.

Quirrel whimpered and harry couldn't help but back up himself, distancing himself from the scene and watching from a distance that was as safe as it could be while still allowing for him to eavesdrop. But then Snape turned again, eyes boring deeply into his skull.

He darted off, pushing the limits of the pace his legs would allow him, sneaking away before breaking into the sprint that would certainly be heard.

The fat lady was not happy to be woken up by the fast-paced pattering of feet on the floor accompanied by the yelling of the password that seemed to be coming from nowhere.

Tiredly, she allowed the strange presence entrance to the common room of Gryffindor and Harry could breath freely once again.

He collapsed onto a chair, roughly pulling the invisibility cloak off and casting it onto the soft chair beside him. He was slouched, gasping in air and gaping, eyes wide as he examined the ceiling before him, trapped within his own thoughts. Hogwarts was not as safe as he had thought, not as secure as everyone had been hoping.

He brought himself to aching feet, slowly trudging up the staircase that lead to his bed, wishing it was less steep. He collapsed again and instantaneously was robbed of his consciousness, plunged into a world of dreams that promised exclusively negative things.

The net morning he was still practically an animated corpse as he sat at the table, slouching and failing to keep his head held up. Across from him Ed's own head was being lowered so he could see Harry properly.

He noted the dark skin beneath his eyes, almost like a bruise, and the redness of his face that was not normally there.

"You look like crap." He commented offhandedly, making Harry look up at him and focus his bleary view of the world on the gold and black blur that he assumed was his friend.

"Thanks." The image swam a little, rippling and becoming blurrier still.

Ed spoke not a word in response and their group was plunged back into a silence that was almost lulling Harry to sleep as the commotion of the others in the hall faded away as unnecessary background noise and such other things he would be better ot wasting his time on.

I a last bid attempt to stop his eyelids from dropping Harry spoke up "Say, do you trust," he was cut off by his own involuntary yawning. Slightly annoyed, he clenched his fists repeatedly and began again "Say," He spoke with more force the second time around "do you trust Snape?"

Hermione turned to him quickly, har fanning out around her face as she looked at him with such confusion that was almost unseen on her face to all but Ed who had seen it when she was quizzing him about his profession, trying to make him sensitive information that he refused to.

"Why would we not trust him?" Her buck-teeth became more visible as her face changed around her curiosity and confusion.

"I get that you might be suspicious but we can't really do anything if you don't have solid evidence." Ed spoke with an odd maturity that went unnoticed by all but Hermione who sent an untrusting look his way.

"He was threatening professor Quirrell!" Harry insisted, casting his arms out wide to either side of him, happy no one wa in his near vicinity, and turning his head sharply to the two teachers he was talking about, the defense teacher shrinking and leaning away from the potions teacher as he sat beside him.

"And you know this how?" Ed asked, unsettlingly calm and raising a single eyebrow "Doing something you weren't supposed to?" he laced his gloved fingers together and rested his chin on his hands, elbows propped up on the table and mouth tilted into an evil-looking smirk.

Hermione looked at both disapprovingly "Harry, he's a teacher. Dumbledore wouldn't have hired him if he didn't trust him."

But harry felt the need to protest. "But hermione, what if Dumbledore made a mistake?" He illustrated his point with harsh hand movements that knocked over an empty pitcher that hd once been filled with pumpkin juice.

Hermione righted the pitcher and focused her steely gaze on Harry "We've no reason to worry." She assured him with unwavering conviction she could only hope would be contagious "He's a teacher."

Breakfast ended and harry had not managed to convince Hermione that a teacher could be anything but trustworthy. However, Ed was aware there was something amiss amongst the Hogwarts staff, even if it was not exactly what Harry suggested it was. He was not quite sure what but there was something there and Harry's evidence, gained through means not authorised within the school, proved to cement that suspicion. Ron was entirely sold on what Harry said, disliking the accused more than anyone else and entirely ready to accuse him at the drop of a hat. He had constantly tried to argue against hermione, their contrasting personalities clashing in a dispute that neither could end. While Hermione's points for arguments were superior Ron was diligent when it came to protesting his own, causing their argument to be drawn into a stalemate and the two to be locked in a perpetual, argumentative, unfriendly silence for the following day.

Harry and Ed could feel the awkwardness that spread to them from their friends, wishing for the argument to be over but with an actual resolution rather than a meaningless apology.

They were determined to uncover the secrets of Hogwarts she was less willing to share with them.

Albus Dumbledore thought these children were perhaps more intelligent than they were given credit for. They were digging deep within the depths of the secret, growing closer to a definitive answer than he would have thought they'd be capable of doing in such a timely manner as they did.

They may just be able to accomplish the task he would admit he was forcing upon them, the one he had been doubtful of the possibility of until recently when these children began to discover and display their potential.

The Slytherin among them was a wild card, an extra asset he had wished for but had never even dared hope would work as well as he was in the plan. That boy could bring much more than Dumbledore had originally expected to the table.

Originally he had thought it cruel to be weaponising the boy as he was planning, especially as his presence was not part of the prophecy, but then he had discovered his role within the military of his own country. He had a weapon on his side that the enemy could not possibly expect.

He was set up to win, so long as the puzzle continued to assemble as seamlessly and quickly as it was. But, so far, the only bits he had assembled were the edge, the middle would be hard to fit into the frame as it should go and he was not yet sure how many pieces he needed and whether he had them all to his disposal.

He could only hope.


	29. Chapter 29

He had been deathly tied all day but, the moment he felt the soft weight of the blanket over his legs, the pillow beneath his head and heard the soft snoring of his dorm-mates, he could not fall asleep. Morpheus was mocking him, laughing at him impishly as he taunted him tirelessly. And that was exactly what Harry was not: tireless.

He didn't know what had drawn him into doing so but he seemed to be drawn to wandering the corridors of the school after curfew. The school was a creepy place to be after dark and few dared wander the halls; it was fairly uncommon to see so much as a ghost gliding around after the lights went out. Funnily enough, they would have fit right in: the place was certainly ghostly.

Or perhaps it was just that night, the storm outside and the unpleasantness he had felt all day as he had been surrounded with quarrelling, disbelief and doubt. With every flash of lightning the trees outside would be silhouetted on the walls by the windows, like skeletal limbs. The rolling thunder overhead sounded almost like beast, unsettled as though being forcefully awoken from a deep slumber. The wind blew through the old architecture and him, chilling everything down to the very core.

He found himself wandering again, to the room with the mirror that had shown him that which he had never dared of even hoping to see. It was like his legs moved of their own will, dragging him to that familiar room. It was well, he supposed. He was far too exhausted to hope of being able to utilise his mind.

His trance was broken though, when he heard a noise e had not heard before in the hallways, drifting down over a sudden roar of wind from a nook in the wall above his head as the door he wished to enter sat a few feet in front of him.

"Doing something you aren't supposed to." The statement was spoken humorously from above, scarce heard but carrying an almost mocking amusement. It was a confirmation that the speaker had no need to say.

With a slight grunt the speaker made themselves known, vaulting down from their nook with a fling of the arms that sent them flying over Harry's head, a flash of black that could barely be seen in the darkness and green and gold that stood out like sore thumbs. The figure turned around, revealing a familiar grinning face that spoke of a knowing mischief even Harry was weary to get involved with.

Nervously, he pulled the cloak that concealed his visage tighter around himself and took a pace away from his smirking friend.

"Please," The other scoffed, advancing himself as if refusing to allow Harry to widen the gap between them "There's no point in having that invisibility cloak if you going to take hearing and whatnot into consideration too." He took another step before Harry could, reaching forwards quickly and grasping the almost fluid-feeling fabric of the cloak. "So," He pulled as Harry gulped, the cloak falling from the boy's hand and spilling onto the floor between them "Just where have you been going?"

"Ed!" He hadn't been ready for any complications such as this one. He gulped again, rubbing his hands along his chilly forearms and thinking of ways to change the subject. "Why are you wearing your uniform?" He was clearly grasping for answers.

The other boy looked at him a little incredulously "I don't." He flipped back the corners of his cloak "I just put this over my pyjamas because I was cold." His smirk made a reappearance "Now, I'm not a patent person but I answered your question. Now, how about you answer mine? Where are you going Harry?"

"To see my parents."

"How about you show me just what you mean?"

"Come with me. You know aren't a patient person, you're a pretty scary one."

"Oh come on!" He exclaimed "I haven't even done anything... yet."

"Exactly: yet."

Harry opened the door and let Ed enter before him.

"Well this is unimpressive." He glanced around the dusty, unused classroom, unimpressed. Bu then his eyes fell upon the golden mirror that stood tall and proud. He approached and ran a finger over the corner of the glass, white glove (Harry had to wonder why on Earth he was still wearing them) gathering a thick layer of grey dust. "Except for this." He took a step back and looked up analytically for a moment at the faded text that Harry was unable to make sense of. "I shown not your face but you heart's desire." He deduced simply and quickly.

"Pardon?" harry was left to wonder what on Earth ed was talking about.

"I show not your face but your heart's desire." he repeated. "the inscription on the top of the mirror." He clarified after seeing no change in Harry's expression.

"And you know this how?"

"I pretty much have to decipher codes a million times harder than this one on a daily basis."

"Why?"

"So, your parents?" He was clearly skirting around that answer.

"Oh! yeah. If you look into the mirror you can see them." He stood in front of the mirror and watched as his parents fazed into existence on either side of him, forming a definite image and completing that of a picture-perfect family. Ed glanced around him curiously, staring at the dust clouded mirror and crinkling his brow.

"I don't see them." He paused "Just you."

"Try looking head on. Stand here! See. You can see them."

"I can't." He did look very confused though. he was seeing the mirror before him, rippling as though indecisive. The image was fluctuating between two, becoming decipherable but never quite clear as it rolled between the two.

The first found himself standing in a familiar room wearing a t-shirt and shorts, every limb made of flesh and free of scars, two familiar figures to either side of him that were slightly different from how he had last seen them. One was his mother, hair just beginning to grey as it had never had time to, the other was his brother, human and, annoyingly, an inch or two taller than himself. He didn't have time to rant as the image flickered to the other.

This one was more cluttered. An abundance of people wee pushed into the frame, unorganised but happy. Himself, Al, Winry and Pinako took centre stage as Mustang's team filed in behind. He wore the shirt he always did, lacking the jacket and coat that normally covered it, shorts the place of his usual trousers, limbs perfectly human but still scarred where he was used to scarring being: around where the ports of his automail should have been. Al was human too, standing with his arm around Ed as he stood proudly, blood red stone in hand. he knew what that was but he didn't understand what was happening.

It was making him dizzy. He stumbled back and took a seat, watching the strange images fade as he retreated.

Harry was looking at him, both concerned and confused as he sat heavily "You didn't see them? but you saw something didn't you? What was it?"

Ed didn't really want to answer and wasn't entirely sure he knew how to.

He was saved from having to answer as a figure fazed into existence in the corer of the room. It was grinning with sparkling eyes that looked over them with an expression for which there was surely not a name.

"How?" Harry asked as the old man chuckled, no longer watching from the sidelines and, at last, beginning to meddle in the progression of his own plans.

"Disillusionment charm." Ed answered simply, not bothering to climb to his feet.

"Quite right Mr. Elric,"

"Professor Dumbledore," Harry was baffled "What are you doing here?"

He didn't get the direct answer he had requested, instead Dumbledore gently guided both to the front of the mirror again. "Tell me boys, do you now what this is?"

"A mirror." Ed answered bluntly, not looking at the headache inducing mirror despite his temptation to.

Apparently Dumbledore found humour in that "Why you are right Mr. Elric I was looking for a more specific answer. How about if I give you both a clue? The happiest man could sit in front of this mirror and see himself exactly as if it were a regular mirror."

"It shows us what we want." Harry decided "Whatever we want."

"Not quite Mr. Potter."

"Stop being cryptic old man."

"My apologies Mr. Elric. Mr Potter, it shows you heart's deepest desire."

"Why?"

"I'm afraid I don't quite know what you mean Mr. Elric."

"Why did I see two images?" He didn't sound happy. perhaps frustrated, perhaps confused, perhaps merely impatient.

Even Dumbledore looked surprised "I have to admit that is surprising. In fact I don't think I've ever hear of anything quite like that. Perhaps your heart is at odds with itself."

"So cheesy." He stood up and left, not caring he was being impolite to his headmaster.

"Is that okay?" harry asked, watching Dumbledore who was, in turn, watching Ed retreat with an odd smile on his face.

"Quite." Dumbledore turned his attention to the other student "I believe, in the scheme of things, that boy is above me."

"I'm afraid I don't understand what you mean sir."

"It is not my place to explain." Dumbledore shifted, hands finding a place on the floor to either side of him "If that is all, I shall be taking my leave now."

"Sir?" Dumbledore hummed, indicating Harry had his permission to continue "What do you see in the mirror?"

He stood and looked a himself for a moment, eyeing the reflective surface with concentration before conceding an answer. "I see myself wearing a nice new pair of socks." With that he all but disappeared, leaving harry to remain and wonder hat the man had meant when he had spoken of Ed and just how much, about his school, teachers and even, surprisingly, his friends. For a moment, even his pressing suspicion had left his mind.

 **A/N So this is a little slow at the moment but that should change come next chapter. Also I want to address the cover image. I just use one of Pompeii that I took while I was in Italy (because I was bored of the default and that was the only photo on my hone at the time) But I kinda want to change it so it's a bit more relevant. If anyone has visited my profile you may see that I mentioned liking art so i was thinking of drawing one. Essentially, what I'm tying to say is "What character should I use in the cover image?" I only really wanna draw one so I was wondering who people would like it to be. As always, thanks to everyone who had read, reviewed, followed and/or favourited. It's incredible to see and it means a lot to me to know people are enjoying this. Even if i don't respond directly to a review I can promise I have read it and taken in whatever was written init (whether it be constructive criticism, pointing out a mistake or anything else).**

 **~We'reAllABitOdd**


	30. Chapter 30

Ed was never late to breakfast yet he was nowhere to be seen. Harry was awkwardly glancing around in search of him, finding any way he could to avoid eye contact with either Ron or Hermione as the two sat side by side, stubbornly turned away from each other, Hermione with her arms crossed and Ron diligently stuffing food into his mouth. Harry would rather not get involved in the argument his friends had decided to keep alive for far longer than they should have.

One would think gold hair would be unmissable but, in a sea of people as large as the bustling one occupying the Great hall of Hogwarts, it was very easy to miss. This Harry realised when it finally caught his eyes, slumped down over the table on the other side of the hall, sandwiched between a large boy and a slighter one, facing a girl. His head was firmly placed in his gloved hands.

Glad for an excuse to leave, Harry walked over to his rather annoyed-looking friend. As he neared he could see Ed more closely, the gritting of his teeth and knitting of his eyebrows, the flexing of his fingers in agitation. Then Harry caught a bit of the conversation. He felt himself wince.

"This midget," Daco jabbed a thumb at Ed "Won't show me his homework!" He flailed his arms, narrowly avoiding toppling a jug of milk

Harry didn't even have time to take another step, didn't even have the time to register the sight of what was happening, before Ed reacted, this time without the ranting words harry had come to associate with mentions to his height.

His right arm moved quickly, knocking the same jug over before firmly planting itself in the nose of a smarmy blonde boy.

Pansy squealed from across the table as Crabbe and Goyle started, standing and making a grab at Ed who evaded them, kicking them with his left leg and sending them flailing to the floor, clasping at their stomachs and gasping for breath as Draco looked at them incredulously through watery eyes, hands clasping at his bleeding nose.

Ed smiled down at them all sadistically "Wanna call me short again? Perhaps tell everyone you got beat up by a 'midget'?"

He walked away cooly, once white right glove stained red. He approached Harry directly, wordlessly guiding him away from the great hall, down to the open grounds of the school, into the light, drizzling rain of the early year.

Ed took a seat beneath a tree before he even spoke, clapping his hands together and easily cleaning his glove. "God, that bastard is annoying!" he exhaled deeply before adding "As hell." as an afterthought.

"But did you really have to punch him?" harry questioned, crouching besides Ed but not wanting to get the seat of his uniform trousers wet on the rain-saturated grass.

Ed glanced up through his fringe, quickly darkening as the rain soaked it "yes." he answered simply.

"Why were you at the Slytherin table anyway?"

Ed's breath stuttered as he continued to attempt to calm himself "One of those lumbering goons broke my alarm clock so I overslept. Then that damn brat woke me up, dragged me down and demanded I gave him my homework to copy because he forgot to do his own. It's not my fault he forgot to do his herbology. I was trying my best not to do too much damage."

"It didn't work."

"Ya don't say!" he lowered his head to his hands, speaking from beneath his hanging fringe so Harry couldn't see his mouth moving. "Why were you coming over there anyway?"

"Hermione and Ron are still arguing." They sat and listened to the gentle patter of the rain and occasional hum of the wind for a moment.

Then Ed broke the silence "I literally don't even remember what they were arguing about." he admitted, chuckling slightly before lapsing into silence once again.

It was Harry's turn this time around. "Do you reckon Draco will rat you out?"

"You know," Ed raised his head and began to pick at a loose thread on his left glove disinterestedly "I'd like to say no. Anyone would common sense would realise it's better for them not to, but I don't know how that boy's mind works, much less those of his lackeys, if they even have them, that is."

"Why did anyone _ever_ think you were well behaved?"

He twiddled the thread between his fingers "That's your mistake, not mine." He rocked back before vaulting himself onto his feet. Harry stood calmly, following beside his friend and registering how much heavier the rain had gotten and the fact that both he and Ed were thoroughly soaked.

"Wait!" he exclaimed suddenly as they approached the doors. Ed turned his head as he continued to walk "We had herbology homework?"

"Oh for God's sake!"

* * *

The dungeons were as dim and damp as ever, the smell of various, unpleasant potions ingredients permeating the stale air that filled the confined space.

As always, there was writing filling the blackboard, neat yet, at the same time, difficult to read. To accompany it there were a pair of dark, heavy, hawkish eyes that scrutinised the half of the class wearing red and gold. They overlooked those wearing green, the empty seats amongst them and the girl sending evil glances towards a boy, dressed in the same colours as herself.

Harry worked at his potion as he watched Ron sending glances, akin to those Pansy was giving Ed, to Hermione as she and Ed worked on their perfect potion, much closer to finishing it than Harry was.

Snape swooped around the room, hobbling slightly and drawing in harry's suspicion, like a bat, cloak draped over him and sweeping the floor as the heavy fabric fell in large, looping folds. For once, the man did not speak as Neville put the wrong thing in his potion, as Seamus' combusted, as Ron did not work at all, as Ed worked as perfectly as ever, as Harry stirred one too many times. He pursed his lips and kept on watching, almost like he was waiting, possessing patience he had never once before appeared to have.

It was like he was another person, it wasn't right.

Draco wasn't even there, either he was spending the lesson in the infirmary or was too embarrassed to show his face, Crabbe and Goyle were not there either. Snape did not say a word about their unexplained absence either.

As the lesson ended and they were let out to lunch Snape did not call anyone to stay back as he was characteristically inclined to. He was like a shell of a man, a shell of the shell he was usually.

Harry found himself with Ed again as Hermione and Ron remained too irritating to stay around.

"Why was Pansy staring at me like I killed her puppy?" Ed asked him nonchalantly as he sat at the edge of the Gryffindor table, cradling his goblet in his hands.

"You're kidding?" Harry responded incredulously.

"What? No! Why?"

"You are hopeless."

Ed sipped on his pumpkin juice "Oh whatever." His golden eyes flitted to the side, catching Ron and Hermione, sitting together but not interacting with one another. "You know what is hopeless? Them." he tilted his head in the direction of his disputing friends.

"Oh absolutely." Harry agreed with a nod. "What are you doing, anyway?" Onyx was sat on the table next to Ed as the boy wrote, brown paper-wrapped box placed besides him.

"It's my friend's daughter's birthday soon. It's a present."

"When did you get that?"

"Brought it with me."

"Why do you have a friend old enough to have a daughter anyway?"

"He's a work friend."

"Why do you work?"

"You know I don't have parents and I'd rather stay out of an orphanage. Therefore, I need to make my own money."

"What do you do while you're at school?"

"I earn enough." He shrugged "Besides, I have an assessment coming up." He held up a piece of parchment, dangling it from his gloved fingers and waving it slightly as though he was expecting harry to be able to read the foreign text filling it. "Speaking of," he rose to his feet after draining his goblet, rolling the letter he was writing and tying both that and the parcel to the leg of his rather small owl. "I need to speak to the old man."

"What is that, by the way?"

"The gift? Just some crayons, paper, that sort of thing. What else do you get for a toddler?" He released the owl and put his goblet down on the table "Good luck, by the way." he gestured to Ron and Hermione again, face filling with an evil look of joy as harry gulped at the notion.

* * *

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore had been returning to his office when he bumped into one of his most interesting students yet. It had turned out that union was exactly what the boy had been after. That was the reason the young Slytherin stood before him as he did, parchment clutched tightly in his hands before his chest.

"To what do I owe this pleasure, Mr. Elric?" he was well aware 'Mr' was not the correct term, that he should probably be using 'Major'. But he wanted to keep the boy in the dark about the fact he was not. The young major was a very important puzzle pieces.

"Cut the formalities old man. There are a couple of things I need to talk to you about." Dumbledore nodded and grinned as he cradled his chin in his intertwined fingers. "First of all, I know you're aware 'Me. Elric' isn't what you should technically be calling me." It would seem the boy held a torch in the dark Albus had wanted to keep him in. "That's why I need to discuss this with you." he presented the old man with the paper, the unjoined, rounded print filling it forming words unidentifiable to most outside of the county they belonged to. "You speak Amestrian, right?"

"Certainly," He lowered his spectacles to read the letter he had been given "But I', afraid I may be slightly rusty." After a moment he set down the letter, nodding his head slightly. "I'll see what can be arranged. Perhaps a clearing in the Forbidden Forest will suffice for your assessment? I do apologise for keeping you from your research, it is my fault this assessment will have to be a practical one."

"Don't be. It's no problem."

"I believed you proposed a couple of topics of interest you wished to discuss with me?"

"Mm." Ed agreed "It's about my brother." He looked down at the floor and sighed before righting his gaze "He won't be coming next year, will he?"

"He will not, though I am curious about how you knew this. A wizard's magical energy is tracked and, a few years ago, your brothers just disappeared entirely, strange when we still class him as living. He is no squib, rather an anomaly. Perhaps you know why?"

"I do." He offered no explanation despite admitting to having one. "Tell ya what, when I fix this, because I promise I will, will you take him in then, have the teachers here tutor him? It's my fault and I'm not having him miss out on all of this because of me."

"What do you offer in, as you would say, equivalent exchange?"

He smirked "My cooperation."

"You are quite apt at bartering, my boy. Bu I must admit, there is a rather large possibility I may not live to that day."

"Then make sure your predecessor as headmaster knows. Otherwise I will throw a wrench in your plans and you can watch as that well-oiled machine breaks down right before your eyes."

"Yes." Dumbledore confirmed "Quite apt at bartering."


	31. Chapter 31

As morning came around, as the sun rose in a dim sky, bringing life to it, children began to stir in the Hogwarts dormitories. A tree began to move like an animal rather than a plant; the noises of night time in the forbidden forest slowly quieted, until, at last, they ceased. The horizon lit up orange, the thin layer of clouds began to fill the air like cigarette smoke.

A young boy sat outside, just beyond the reach of this animated tree, in the dewy grass, watching as the last of the darkness left. He was lucky, the first day he could remember when the sunrise had not been greeted with the opening of the heavens, when the clouds had not clogged up the sky, steel grey, was his birthday.

The wisps of cloud reminded him of someone, the very same from whom one of the multiple gifts being carried by the owl he watched growing nearer and nearer was from. Jean Havoc was an entertaining friend and he liked him as much as he did because he also, though admittedly for a wildly different reason, held a certain amount of disdain for Colonel Mustang.

As the dark owl, suddenly lit up in contrast to the sky behind it, grew nearer and nearer the boy couldn't help but smile. The nearer the owl grew the more discernible its luggage became. Soon the label of 'Brother' became clear in the same typewriter-print as always. He smiled.

The owl landed on his boot as he sat with his right leg crossed beneath him and his left leg extended before him. He gentle petted the owl on her head as she nibbled and pecked at his fingers, refusing to be ignored before, at last, allowing him to untie the gifts and letters.

He accumulated a pile of flimsy, brown paper and envelopes as well as a collection of notebooks and alchemy books as well as a rather substantial number of coded research notes he needed to decode - of course the bastard would give him work for his birthday! He almost found it funny, how few things people could think of to get him, even if these were the people that were supposed to know him the best. Of course, Al's letter had the same little detail as it often did, the same most people would probably be taken aback at receiving; he was asking to take in yet another stray cat.

He had to wonder if his present for the Hughes' had arrived in time for their shared birthday.

He took a moment to flick through the countless blank pages that would soon be filled with his net yet hardly legible writing, probably smudged due to it being written with his non-dominant left hand; another moment was spent on aged pages he could feel their rough texture beneath his fingers, filled with fading script that was, thankfully, still there enough to read. Then he stood, put his gifts and letters into the folds of the red coat he wore and returned to the castle.

Technically, he was breaking the curfew he wasn't meant to be outside nearly as early as he was. In actuality, he was often out at that time, choosing the sunset over the damp ceiling of the dungeon for his view. He deposited his things back into his room, in the trunk at the end of his bed he had carefully charmed to resist spells like 'alohamora' to protect its contents from his hellish roommates.

At least they still hated him, it may not have been what most would have wanted but, dear God, was he thankful to have been left alone! There was no more nagging for homework; no more broken property; no more snarky comments about his height or anything else aimed at his short temper. They were scared of him now, he liked that.

He went jogging as he always did - even if 'regular' (though that is not a term he would typically use to describe them - they were wizards for God's sake!) eleven-year-olds feared him, not fearing Izumi Curtis when you knew her as he did was a death-wish. She still controlled him, even if only in spirit and memory.

* * *

Hermione and Ron had made up since their argument: when both had forgotten what the disagreement was even about.

That morning, Ron found himself sitting up at the table early, by the side of the aforementioned girl. He didn't understand why; she was sure she had mentioned it but, in his state of sleepy deliriousness, he had failed to process her speech. All he knew was: the great hall was nearly empty; the food in front of him was more of a blur than anything else; a familiar boy was approaching and another, who went by the name of Harry James Potter, was still asleep in Gryffindor Tower and he was envious of his friend for that.

Ed, hair loose as Ron rarely saw it, took a seat next to Ron, twirling a hairband around his fingers, coming very close to snapping it before relaxing his hands and allowing its elastic to contract. He wordlessly took the still-full pitcher of pumpkin juice, pouring himself a glass, as he took a morsel from the plate of food Ron had, uncharacteristically, not touched and was nearly falling asleep into.

He did not protest - he probably didn't realise.

Hermione greeted Ed and Ron watched through bleary eyes as they talked, presumably about the brown blur that, he guessed, was most likely a book. He heard through ear that sounded as though they had waves crashing through them as words he may or may not have been able to make sense of if he were entirely awake at the time.

"Harry has a match today - right?" Ed asked a while later, as queues and bundles of students began to pile in and fall at their table, not quite awake but also not nearly as near to unconsciousness as Ron.

Hermione nodded her response as the boy in question walked into the hall, messy hair messier than ever.

"Speak of the devil." Ed mumbled as Harry neared, draining the last of the pumpkin juice from the pitcher and watching it refill itself before he even took his seat. He grabbed a piece of generously buttered toast as he looked at Ron through thick, round lenses, eyebrows lowered over emerald eyes. The hand not holding his toast gently ran over the bristles of his Nimbus 2000.

He had been beyond surprised when he received that.

"Hey, Ed?"

"Yeah?"

"You were saying about your friend's daughter's birthday a little while ago, right?"

"Yeah." He wasn't sure where the conversation was leading "What of it?"

"You never mentioned when your own birthday was - you haven't had it yet, have you?"

"Sort of, sort of not."

Harry hummed, not sure what Ed meant whatsoever "What?"

"It's today." He deadpanned.

Hermione burst in outrage as Harry protested and Ron nearly fell asleep in the eggs he was struggling to eat.

Ed did not have the time to justify himself for withholding that fact - a strike of luck, actually, he had no reason - it was time for the quidditch match to begin.

"Good luck." Ed said passively as Harry gripped his broom and began to make his way towards the rest of the quidditch team "There is absolutely no way in hell I'll be cheering for the Slytherin team - don't let them do anything, those people are violent."

He sighed and paused for a second to respond "Ugh. I'm well aware."

* * *

Harry hadn't been entirely focused on the match - he hadn't really been focused on much for a while. They may have won but things were slipping past him; he was passing the world by without taking it in.

He had stopped mentioning it for while after Ron and Hermione had their falling out but he did not trust the school - the staff to be specific, Snape to be even more so. There was someone else at the school he was kind of weary of, though at the same time he liked them much more than he liked most: Ed.

The boy was shrouded in mystery and hiding his birthday, as inconsequential of a thing as it was, suggested that wasn't the only thing he had kept from them, perhaps even outright lied about.

There was the odd, metallic creaking too - it was there when he had punched Draco and, disguised by the crunching of bone, he could recall having heard an odd clang. Not to mention the steps he stook, they were accompanied by it.

Of course, the country of his origin was suspicious too - a nation as restricted and outdated as that was must he housing some secrets.

Add the job he had mentioned to that - just who employs an eleven-year-old at the cost of their education (he believed he remembered Ed having mentioned something of the sort when they had first been acquainted).

All in all, Harry wished he had asked more questions when they had first met, when such questions would have merely been seen as, perhaps slightly awkward, small talk. Now they had the potential to be seen as signs of suspicion and, even though he wasn't quite sure why, that wasn't something he was willing to

It was strange, being unable to tell whether he was fearful of losing the friendship and trust of the boy or just the boy himself.

 **A/N I felt like writing some of this and I won't be able to this weekend - I'm going to France (with the school MFL department)! Also, I've just now realised how stereotypically British I'm being: writing a Harry Potter (crossover) fic, Ddrinking tea out of a Harry Potter mug that's literally the size of my head and watching Dan and Phil for background noise.**

 **Anyway…**

 **Seriously, thanks to everyone who has read, followed, favorited and (my personal favourite, not that I want you to feel obligated to do so) reviewed.**

 **~We'reAllABitOdd**


	32. Chapter 32

A month went past, then another, and soon it was almost time for the end of the school year. The weather was drastically kinder than it had been, the skies far brighter and the clouds slowly fading away.

But there were a few things that wouldn't change.

Namely, the many suspicions of one Harry James Potter.

All around Harry the world was moving alone, changing with the progression of time, but his mind was cemented in one place, never finding answers and never willing to give u before coming across them. He still did not trust Ed entirely but those suspicions had been shoved aside to some extent by matters he considered much more pressing.

These matters concerned the Hogwarts staff and the item hidden within the ancient building, the knowledge of which Harry could not admit to currently as the questioning on how said knowledge was gained would point a giant, neon arrow towards Hagrid. Harry didn't want to endanger the livelihood of the giant man.

But things were getting worse.

The time to act was fast approaching.

It had taken a great deal of effort to convince Hermione that the stone was in grave danger but when she had taken to the idea she was instantly very invested in the protection of the object even if Ed called it a fake. It hadn't taken long for Ed to agree with him on the matter of the stone being in danger, though they were, and would stay, at odds as to who was posing that danger. Ed had admitted he didn't know who would be behind the impending theft of the stone but he just _knew_ it wasn't Snape.

Ron was rather gullible and he shared Harry's hatred towards Snape - he hadn't taken any convincing at all on either matter.

They didn't have lessons at that point, but they had urgency on their minds as they went rushing into the school buildings, surprising Professor McGonagall as they approached with little haste.

"We need to speak to professor Dumbledore!" Harry demanded, seeming to forget the one being addressed was much his superior and was not very amused.

"Professor Dumbledore is out - he left earlier today. I do not know what you wish to discuss with him but I am sure I am right in assuming it is not so urgent it cannot be left undiscussed until he returns." She recovered from her surprise very quickly before speaking in a tone that heavily implied her disapproval.

"But it's about the Philosopher's Stone!" Harry was adamant to get their point across in as little time as possible- it was a very pressing matter.

She was much more taken aback this time around, taking longer and struggling to maintain her composure "I do not know how you came to know about that but I can assure you it is not something for you to be concerned about."

"But someone's going to try to steal it!"

"Rest assured, Mr Potter, both the school and stone are perfectly safe."

Harry simply could not win and, eventually, they just had to give in before going off their separate ways, all dreading what was going to happen, plotting to meet up at the room on the third-floor-corridor in which the giant, three headed dog that guarded the trapdoor leading to the stone.

That night they rendezvoused at that room, standing anxiously outside the door, huddled beneath the invisibility cloak that was, by no means, large enough for the three of them, trying to gather up the courage to go in.

Ron was very ready to put it off for as long as h could manage.

"Hey," He whispered to Ed who stood next to him, looking ready to charge through the door at a moment's notice "How did you get out here anyway?" They had met the boy there and dragged him under the cloak the second they saw him, standing slightly crouched outside the door, waiting for them.

"Hmm? Nothing special," he shrugged "I do a fair bit of sneaking around." To Ron, that didn't mean much, to Hermione, who knew what was being implied, it was very worthy of the harsh glare and disapproving sigh sent his way. He raised his gloved hands in mock-surrender, making the cloak lift a bit to expose their feet, brushing around their ankles and disturbing the top layer of thick dust that carpeted the floor.

They waited another moment.

"So," Ed rocked back and forth on his feet, disturbing the cloak more and more "Are we going in or what?"

Harry drew in an uneasy, unsteady gulp of air "Yeah."

Ed smiled in a fairly threatening way, not speaking, just stepping forwards, out of the cover of the cloak entirely, and laying a hand on the door. He stood there for a second himself as Ron gulped.

Then he shoved the door inwards.

They were not met with angry growling and blaring eyes, instead gentle music flowing from the strings of a harp that moved with no musician and a gentle snoring. Walking on delicate feet, they approached, closing the door behind them as quietly as possible before removing the cloak from over themselves and separating.

They all made to open the trapdoor but were soon halted by the fact that one of the giant dogs paws lay to rest over it.

They didn't have time to waste! The thief was already here!

Unsurely, the paw was nudged aside and, with much difficulty until Ed, who had been assigned with the duty of watching the door and dog, got fed up of waiting and jumped in himself.

"Honestly," Hermione began as the hatch was lifted noisily but nearly instantaneously, no dust disturbed as it had all been removed upon the entry of the thief "We should have just asked you to do it in the first p-" She paused for a second, cut off by the sudden presence of growling over her shoulder, a large string of saliva dripped down and landed, after a prolonged falling, upon Ron's had. He made a noise of disgusted protest, lifting an arm and trying to flick away some of the dog spit that was dripping all over him.

The music had stopped.

Without a second thought after glancing into the impenetrable darkness for only a single second, Ed flung himself down into the abyss below, deciding it was a better option than facing the Cerberus who was growling behind them. As he vaulted over the gap, there was another metal creaking that paused even the giant beast for a moment.

He landed on an odd surface, without injury.

"It's safe!" He cupped his hands to either side of his mouth and yelled at the top of his lungs upwards to his friends "I don't know what this is," The thing he had landed on was wriggling around him strangely "But it doesn't hurt!"

Then there was a yell and Harry landed not too far away from him, another one, this time higher, and Hermione fell, next a scream that didn't cease even as Ron landed.

"What is this?" Ron asked rather redundantly after calming down a little. He screwed up his nose as he watched the weird, moving substance upon which they had landed.

"I just said I didn't know. But, if I had to guess, I'd say some kind plant - Devil's Snare, perhaps."

Hermione's face brightened as the weird vegetation began to wriggle more beneath them, thick tendrils of plant, plunged into the monotone of the darkness, wrapped around their limbs like restraints. This was clearly the first protection.

"There was a rhyme about devil's snare!" She exclaimed as they all began to struggle, the plant just taking a tighter hold on them the more they tried to move. Ed looked down at the plant trying to suffocate him, the leafy limb creeping up to his neck as though threatening to strangle him. He suddenly stilled, realising Hermione, who had moved the least, was being attacked the least by the violent plant.

"Devil's snare, devil's snare," Hermione began as she, without struggle, began to sink. The restraints around Ed withdrew as he too began to sink, though with some delay, into the plant "It's deadly fun," She paused, trying as hard as she could to retrieve from the depths of her mind the piece of vital information currently being withheld from her "Devil's snare," She began to mumble, repeating the phrase a few times before switching to the next "deadly fun," then the next "But it, but it, but it what?" She exclaimed as she, with a sharp intake of breath, was drawn beneath the moving, wriggling mass of the plant in question.

It wasn't long before Ed joined her, before she had a chance to yell up at the other boys who had yet to react ad were freaking out about their friend's disappearances. He fell to the damp, cold, hard, dirty ground a few feet from her, the wind knocked out of him as he landed on his back with a groan and a _very_ unusual metallic clang. There was a small piece of white fabric by his side that he didn't seem to notice.

"We're okay," she yelled upwards as Ed stood, rubbing his head and trying to remove the dust from his braid "Just relax!"

Only moments later, Harry came plummeting to the ground, nearly landing on Ed, still rubbing the back of his head where he had hit the floor, who darted out of the way just in time and continued to look at Harry with a rather fed-up look on his face. He too landed in a rather painful pose.

He rose from being sprawled across the floor into a sitting position, watching the writhing mass of plant overhead, in which the one he considered to be his best friend was still trapped. His screaming and yelling could still be heard.

He would not calm down.

Soon his screaming and yelling began to sound muffled and choked. Hermione looked rather distraught, looking up with her hands clutched to her chest and knees slightly bent, lips parting, moving as though she were speaking despite the fact she was not making a noise.

"Devil's snare, devil's snare-" She began to repeat again as the yelling had all but vanished but the mass of tendrils had not ceased moving animatedly "It's deadly fun-" she paused, bit her lip and brought her hands up to cover her lower face, eyes suddenly brightening as she moved quickly "But sulks in the sun!" She exclaimed, at last having remembered the part of the rhyme that was of use to her.

She drew her wand from her pocket in hurried flourish and said, at the top of her lungs "Lumos Maxima!"

In an instant, from the tip of the wand, a bright, Blinding light sprung forth, illuminating everything in sight, right down to the corners of the room, lighting up each and every speck of dust. The writhing mass of plant stopped before recoiling. As it recoiled a familiar figure came crashing through, screaming and gasping for breath, thanking God that he was freed from the tight grasp of the plant he had never expected to see outside of a herbology lesson.

As the light faded and they could see again properly, Harry could have sworn he saw something glinting to Ed's side, where his hand hang down. Ed seemed to notice it too. His heart sped up as he realised and crouched down, grabbing the piece of fabric that lay next to him, hiding whatever it was that had glinted.

Harry kept his eyes fixed over there, staring at Ed's hand with narrowed eyes that tried to rationalise what he had seen.

With nothing more than a few more laboured breaths and a few words to check everyone had made it through without injury beyond being jarred, ether by the surprise of the violent plant or the uncomfortable fall, they moved long.

The light was gone and, tracing her hand over the rough, unclean wall that she could barely see, Hermione was leading the way, Ed taking up the rear, both looking through the darkness as much as they could, wands gripped in hands as they were suddenly aware of the dangers of the system created to protect the Philosopher's Stone.

Harry, who was walking just in front of Ed, over Ron's occasional whispered mutters of "Bloody hell." that seemed to disappear the moment they were spoken could hear the metallic groaning, more than ever now. Maybe he was just paying it more attention now, maybe he was getting more suspicious. Or maybe it was just the silence, the oppressive silence that robbed them of all the comfort of noise, that restrained them within its embrace. He looked at the other boy's hand again for a moment, staring at his hand as the shorter boy glanced over his shoulder to check they hadn't missed anything. Sure enough, the glove was covered in dust and there was a small hole towards the wrist, very difficult not to miss, through which there could be seen a dull glint.

 **A/N**

 **So here we are, back again and straight into the beginning of the real exciting bit of the story. I'm sorry if this isn't all that great, I've had to do more today than write and I have had to write this and a book report today, I'm tired but I wanted to get this up as soon as I could because it has been a little while. It doesn't help I made the book report more 'difficult' than I needed to - our teacher told as that we didn't even have to do it about a novel (it's a half-term** **homework** **and she knows we'll have other things to do) but I wanted to read** ** _A Study in Scarlet_** **anyway and then proceeded to write a report that's** **approximately three times as long as it needs to be.**

 **So, it's my fault if this is terrible or just riddled with stupid spelling mistakes and whatnot.**

 **Than yo to everyone who has read, followed, favourited and reviewed. It's really incredible - 132 reviews, what?!**

 **Also, to the person who reviewed asking about when the next update will be, I'm very sorry for the fact that it has been this long - this isn't my only story and I'm trying to get them updated from last updated to most recently updated - this just happened to be the most recent on that list. I hope this lives up to what you were expecting of it.**

 **~ We'reAllABitOdd**


	33. Chapter 33

As they approached the next chamber, the sound of flitting wings began to fill their ears. Hermione turned to look at her three friends, confusion evident on her face. The only response she received was an unhelpful shrug.

But when they walked into the open space it was obvious where the noise had come from, even if the objective of the chamber was not.

"Birds?" Ron asked as he entered, wandering slightly aimlessly, eyes trained upwards, following the small moving shapes.

Hermione scrunched her nose up again "No. Not birds, keys."

Harry had wandered into the middle of the room, instantly drawn to the broomstick levitating in the centre. He hesitantly left his hand to hover over it as Ed approached the heavy door on the other side.

He whipped his wand from his pocket after testing it and determining it to be locked "Alohamora." the door didn't budge. He made a quiet observation to himself "It's an old rusty lock so the key will probably be old and heavy. The wing's will probably be damaged as well," he was going to continue but harry didn't realise as he mounted the broom without hesitation and took off in search of the correct key. "What are you doing?!" Ed yelled up at him as the flock of keys flew at him, almost bloodthirsty in their speedy advances. "I can just transmute us another door!"

Harry couldn't respond as a key nicked him as it flew past, he was flying in circles, not sure what to focus on and desperate to escape the bombardment of the enchanted objects.

Ed sighed as he clapped his hands loudly in front of him. He slammed them to the wall beside the door and, in a bright flash of blue that disorientated Harry but not his attackers, almost causing him to fall, another door fizzled into existence. Hermione shook her head at seeing its unnecessary macabreness.

"Why?"

"Why not?" Ed grinned as he pushed the door open and entered followed by Ron and Hermione. They waited, Hermione and Ron well out of the way and Ed right by the door, anticipating Harry flying through so he could slam the door behind him and shut out the keys.

When that happened, Harry came tumbling to the floor the moment he passed into the next chamber, falling off the broom that kept moving without him.

Ed looked down at him with an odd expression that Harry in no way trusted "Idiot." he commented dryly as he turned his attention to the next room.

Rather inappropriately for the situation, Ron was smiling. "Chess!" He declared as the grin grew.

He was right. The ground beneath their feet was a checked pattern of black and white, giant chess pieces lined up on either side of what was clearly a giant chessboard. Right across from them, rather tauntingly, was yet another heavy, old door.

They looked around at each other for a second as Harry scrambled to his feet and brushed off his clothes. Then, unanimously and silently, it was decided they would approach the door.

As they walked across the checked floor their footsteps seemed to make too much noise in the otherwise lifeless environment. Thy echoed around the empty chamber until, suddenly they were drowned out by a quick bout of creaking.

Suddenly, they found their path to be blocked.

The two chess pieces in their immediate path had shifted to block it with their weapons. They retreated.

"What do we do now?" Hermione asked as she scanned the room for other possible escape routes.

Ron was smirking as he stood, leaning against the white knight piece on the side of the board they had been granted access to "We play!"

He assigned them all chess pieces as he climbed onto the knight piece himself, gripping on tightly.

"No offense Harry, but you suck at chess," Harry didn't take any, just nodded resignedly as Ron continued "Ed, you're pretty good but you're too reckless," He wasn't going to protest that "Hermione, you don't play," he was right yet again "So I'll take the reigns!" He seemed so proud to say such a thing.

He assigned them pieces as he vaulted himself up onto a black knight piece, still smiling. Then the first of the white pieces, an aged and dirty pawn hat slid across the board with an unpleasant grinding sound, moved to its new square.

Ron wanted to test something. "Pawn to E:4." The black pawn moved forwards with the same noise, pusing as the other pawn hit it. It crashed down on the board loudly, shattering and gong everywhere, covering a large number of the footprints they had left earlier in their futile attempt to pass without participating. Hermione put her hands over her ears and raised her shoulders as she winced.

Ron shook his head and exhaled "That's wizards chess." he leant back for a moment to shake down his hands and steel his nerves. And the game continued.

They were nearing the opposition's king sometime later but their options were limited. Sure, Ron saw a way and there was no other way as sure to succeed. Ed, as reckless as he was, even when he won most of his pieces had been shattered across the board so it really didn't look as though he had, saw the same route and was staring at Ron intensely, gold eyes blazing as he drilled holes into Ron's back.

Ron's breathing quivered again. "I have to do this," he assured himself quietly as hermione, clueless about the game, looked at them as though trying to decipher some code which she simply did not have the skills to do. "I have to do this!" he repeated, louder. Harry gasped and protested but Ron would not accept it, he had o or none of them would make it through.

He called for his knight to move onwards, right into the path of the queen.

The white queen, just as grimy as all the others, smashed his piece over the head with all the force a pair of enchanted stone arm could muster, that being a more than fair amount, the pieces crashed to the ground in pieces, Ron lying groaning and bleeding among them after impacting the ground.

Hermione made to rush forwards but, before she could exit her assigned square, Harry and Ed yelled out at her.

"Don't!" Harry called.

"Not too much longer!" Ed said at the same time.

With a gulp, she did as told and retreated back to the corner of her square. Through fearful eyes she couldn't decide on closing as entirely as she could or opening wider than they should have been able to go, she watched Ed and Harry control he last few moves as Ron intended.

The white king was in an uncountable number of sharp pieces that, with mundane tools and no addition of magic, would have had to be abandoned by even the best of constructors as a project that simply could not be fixed. They began to pass but paused when they reached Ron's pained form laying sprawled out across the floor, pieces of chess piece buried in his skin, rapidly darkening blood dripping down over his pale, freckled skin wherever it could be seen.

"You did well." Ed smiled.

"We'll come back for you." Harry promised.

"Thank you." Hermione whispered.

Despite being certifiably unconscious, a small, thankful smile spread across his lips.

They, with those words, continued onwards.

The next chamber stunk in a way that was all too familiar. It was too dim to see why until they were literally upon the answer. Sprawled across the floor was the giant figure of a humanoid creature, skin an unpleasant greyish-green, dotted all over with warts of varying sizes. They continued onwards, not a single one of them not thinking about Ron and worrying for his wellbeing when they had to leave him alone, as injured as he was.

The next was cold, dim and damp. It was as though even the air in the room wanted to make them feel uncomfortable, like it was too heavy for their lungs, a fact that was becoming more abundant with every uneasy inhale.

"Ugh," Ed shivered, running a gloved had over his other arm and making a face that suggested discomfort in both the situation and action "I feel like I'm back in the dorms." he scrunched up his nose as he looked around, trying to find anything he could out about the chamber they were stood in.

Then, suddenly, everything was illuminated in hues of purple. The entrance they had just travelled through had been covered by a film of purple flames that brought no heat to the room, licking out towards them from the doorway that confined them every now and then. The exit, newly visible, across to the other side of the room was blocked by a similar blazing fire, only this one, along with no warmth, gave no light either. The flames were pitch black!

There was an old table that stood in the centre of the room, a series of seven bottles and phials sitting atop it, filled with liquids in an array of colours. Beside them, there was a note on thick folded parchment.

Hesitantly, they made their way over. Hermione picked up the paper with a shaking hand and read off the handwritten text upon it, the _very_ familiar handwriting.

" _Danger lies beyond you,_ " she began to recite, Ed focusing intently on every word she said as Harry tried his best to keep up with the minds of his genius friends he was sure were already beginning to work " _While safety lies behind,_

 _Two of us will help you, whichever you would find,_

 _One among us seven will let you move ahead,_

 _Another will transport the drinker back instead,_

 _Two among our number hold only nettle wine,_

 _Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line,_

 _Choose, unless you wish to stay here for evermore,_

 _To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:_

 _First, however slyly the poison tries to hide,_

 _You will always find some on nettle wine's left side;_

 _Second, different are those who stand at either end,_

 _But if you would move onwards, neither is your friend;_

 _Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,_

 _Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;_

 _Fourth, the second left and second on the right_

 _Are twins once you taste them but different at first sight._ " She paused at the end before exhaling, eyes glinting as Ed contemplatively spent a moment glancing between his scuffed up boots and the table before looking up with a light in his eyes that told Harry he already knew the answer.

She grinned as her eyes continued to glitter like that of one Albus Dumbledore were often seen to do "Brilliant. This isn't magic - it's logic - a puzzle. A lot of the greatest wizards haven't got an ounce of logic, they'd be stuck in here forever."

Ed agreed, nodding "Say, Hermione, I know what's what, but there's only enough for one of us - I can cheat us all through…"

She turned her eyes to him with a look partway between disbelief and fascination.


	34. Chapter 34

"How?" Hermione asked as she moved her eyes, turning her head and glancing back over her shoulder, back to the unnaturally coloured flames behind her as she stood there, fumbling her hands before her.

"We need the third one to go on," Ed told her and Harry "And the last one to go back. But there isn't enough of either for all three of us. You have to let me cheat or one of us will be stuck here indefinitely. Hermione," he saw but most likely misunderstood her hesitant look "Screw your morals for a moment, look away if you have to - I'm getting us all through."

"No."

"What? It's safe, there's all the components I need here, in the potions we don't need, to get us though! I can transmute them!"

It was Harry's turn to quiver "Can we really trust you to do that when potions is so difficult?"

Hermione looked accusingly at Ed "Trust me," She told Harry "He definitely can." She didn't sound all too happy "But I'm not going through. Ron is back there, injured; I'm going back to him. Ed, get both of you two through, trust me, you're the important ones here. You said it was the last, right?" She knocked back the potion as he nodded, walking back through the blazing purple fire as she caught a bright blue light in her peripheral vision, as the world was plunged into purple, suddenly a series of blurs that made very little sense.

She pushed herself to a jog, assuring herself that Harry and Ed would be safe, that, as much as she hated it, Ed had too much experience with danger and knew what he was doing in dangerous situations, especially with his alchemy there to aid him.

Harry looked at Ed, a little dazed as the other boy blatantly disregarded the rules of the chambers yet again.

"God hates you, doesn't he?" Harry asked innocently as he was handed a vial of potion. "You literally don't know what rules are."

"Yep." Ed confirmed. He sounded oddly sure of it being definite fact.

Harry just shook his head, he had learned that, with Ed, normality was an abstract concept.

Both Harry and Ed, on Harry's count of three, swallowed the potion and walked through the black flames beside one another; it was a bit of squeeze. They didn't burn, merely tickling as they licked at the boys' skin.

The next scene that greeted the strayed far from Harry's expectations. Ed had learned not to lean so heavily on expectations after a couple of missions with his work that had not gone quite to plan.

"You!" Harry exclaimed, unable to hold his tongue as he watched the hunched figure examining the ornate mirror both Harry and Ed had seen before, had gazed into before.

"Yes Harry Potter, The voice sounded unfittingly smooth, its usual stutter absent and making the voice sound so wrong "Me." Quirrel replied.

"Let me speak to him." There was another voice of unknown origins that spoke with a distinctly inhuman quality, raspy and weak but chilling.

"But master, you're not strong enough."

"Let me speak to him." The rasp repeated insistently. So Quirrel reached up a hand that had begun to shake as they had thought characteristic of him and gripped onto his turban. Slowly and tauntingly, he unwound the fabric atop his head.

It fell in looping folds, onto the dusty ground beside him, unsettling the grey carpet. As it fell, more pale skin was revealed, another strip of pale white, until, suddenly, there was not a plan strip of skin but the bump of a hairless eyebrow ridge, soon followed by a narrowed, unwelcoming eye, then the other as the other side of the loop fell. Eventually, that cold, lifeless eye became a complete face, with a nose that was really nothing more than nostrils that were mere slits, and a thin, lipless, mouth, just as colourless as the rest of the face that melded seamlessly into the back of the head that was clearly an entirely separate entity.

An excruciating pain began from Harry's scar, quickly filling his entire head before continuing on donn his already tingling spine. His hands tensed by his sides as Ed looked around unsurely, hands nervously resting a few inches from each other, metal flashes through the tears in the right glove clearly on show.

Harry and Ed were side by side, staring into the mirror but seeing completely different images. There was a wight in Harry's pocket that had not been there before as Ed stared, again, at the flickering images of two different scenes. Harry, slowly and, he hoped, inconspicuously, ran a hand over his pocket, feeling the subtle ridges he knew had not been there before as he watched his reflection draw the blood red stone and flip it a few times in his palm before replacing it.

But nothing was stronger to Ed than his wish for a proper family, one that nullified the father that had never done anything for them, one he wasn't sure about his late mother's place in, one with the full brother he felt he only had half of. He didn't care about the stone, lest it be the real thing rather than the cheap wizard's imitation that would be of no help to him. He couldn't care less about the stone every other wizard in the room, all three of them, were desperate to either steal or save.

"What do you see?" The unusual voice hissed from over their shoulders.

"Why would I tell you?" Ed turned, defiant and glad to be able to take his eyes off of the flickering dizziness of the projection of his reflection in the enchanted mirror of Erised.

"Don't be so insolent." The voice hissed out from the back of another man's head.

Ed almost snorted "What can you do when you are nothing more than a parasite to a man no one respects?"

"What do you see?"

"I see," Harry swallowed down his nerves as he clenched his hands tightly together "I see myself as quidditch captain," It was a lie and he wasn't too convinced on how well he was managing to conceal it "And I'm holding the house cup." He was attempting to fake confidence; it wasn't working.

"Liar." the voice accused "Liar. Liar." it began to chorus as the body of Quirrel made a lumbering, aggressive movement forward. His uncharacteristically stable hand clasped around Harry's trembling shoulder.

There was a clap that didn't quite sound as it should, louder than it had any right to be. It echoed around the chamber as the light Harry had seen a few times and had never once not been fascinated by expanded outwards in uneven sikes of electric blue that reflected from the surfaces that the sound had reverberated off of, cutting sharply through the darkness that had concentrated in the corners of the room.

In a few pieces, bits of stained white fabric fluttered to the ground.

At that moment, harry couldn't help but think Ed was much more terrifying than the attacker who had frozen in awed confusion. The only thing scarier than Ed's face that had been plunged into menacing, dramatic shadow when the light from his clapping had faded, hair blowing out to the side as though being swept that way by the wind, was his hand.

 _Or the_ _ **thing**_ _that had replaced it._

Instead of his hand, alongside a minor tear in the cuff of the long sleeve he wore that showed that it extended beyond just what Harry had been shown, was a dull metal blade that reflected the dim light of the room as much as it was able. The sharpness f the edge of it made even Harry, who it was not turned upon, gulp.

"Go on," Ed's voice was cold and Harry was very confused as to why he had not noticed this very stereotypically _Slytherin_ side of his friend before " _I dare you."_

Quirrel hesitated for a moment before the part of him that wasn't him urged him forwards "What can a child do, especially armed with only the weapon of a muggle barbarian?"

He lunged forwards again, grabbing Harry and looking triumphant before recoiling suddenly with a yell of alarm, clutching his hand to his chest; it was blistering and purple. As he stepped back, he stepped right into the area into which Ed had been waiting for him.

He slashed in a wide arc through the eyes of the face on the back of Quirrel's head with the tip of his blade/hand, blood spraying in the same configuration as he, while shoving down the man's injured head, vaulted over him, flipping through the air over him and taking the opportunity to send out a lashing kick with his left leg at the man's face while he was distracted.

He landed with a loud, metallic thud that was beginning to make a bit more sense to a dazed Harry who was still staring at his own hands. As his boots made contact with the floor, his arm was brought sharply forwards again, cutting through the other eyes the man possessed. He howled in anguish.

He clambered to his feet blindly, making to swipe at Ed who dodged out of the way and made a sweeping kick at Quirrel's legs. He stumbled forwards, falling into Harry somewhat before springing back upwards, looking more burnt than before and physically beginning to crumble as though constructed solely of loosely compacted ash. He howled again, clutching at the eyes that had been rendered bleeding and useless as his body began to physically fall out from underneath him.

He made a last ditch effort to injure the boys, resigned to his own fate and throwing all caution to the wind. He leaped at Ed, nothing held back as he clawed at his eyes in an attempt to get revenge. Gold eyes, suddenly ringed by blood soaked skin where the man's rugged, sharp nails had cut into his face, blazed. Suddenly, Harry saw the tip of a blade, covered in scarlet, cut through the man's right shoulder. The arm fell to the floor with a sickening noise as blood sprayed everywhere.

He was flung backwards, towards Harry who desperately grabbed onto the man's pained face with hands that still held no confidence. Then the screams changed to gurgles as Harry's consciousness began to dim and Quirrel's face began to melt away as his torso had earlier, falling away in clumps of grey that in no way resembled anything even close to human flesh.

Ed screwed up his nose as he shook blood from his arms, blade, and hair. He tried to wipe of his own blood as well as it began to drip into his eyes, but the flow of steady crimson would not stop.

He sighed as he approached Harry, deciding to help his friend until there was no need to, sharply stabbing the blade back through the man who was long gone and far beyond saving - he didn't like to kill but the man was already too close to death to be returned - blade going through him sharply, bringing him away from Harry as he fell forwards, a ruby-coloured stone falling from the boy's pocket and clattering across the dust-covered ground, and blood bubbled up over Quirrel's dry, cracked lips.

The man, or what was left of him, fell back on Ed limply, all the remainder of his weight landing on Ed's left arm that had not been ready for it and bent oddly beneath it. He hissed as a sharp, sudden jolt of pain was sent up the middle of his only remaining arm.

He smiled ruefully. At least it wasn't the other one; Winry would kill him.

Quirrel, in less than a minute, was no longer of any semblance to a man, just a pile of dust on the floor and, soon after, a violent ghost of dull grey that soared at Ed with a wide open mouth that screamed incoherently as it passed right through him before disappearing from existence. Ed's eyes stung as he fumbled to return his blade back to his hand as, in a sudden wave of dizziness caused by the sudden violating coolness of the ghost passing through him, the world grew dimmer and dimmer until there was nothing but black and a sea of subtle light he was sure wasn't there swimming amongst it on the insides of his eyelids.


	35. Chapter 35

Harry groaned as his eyes fluttered open, feeling like led and sticking firmly together. When he could finally see, everything was blurred and, what he had to logically assume was the ceiling above him, was a bright, plain white.

He was in the Nurse's wing.

He tried to bring himself to sitting, pushing himself upon a bandaged hand as he ran the other over the face he couldn't be sure was actually his. He felt his head spin as a series of dots and lines of colour span in artistic circle before his weary eyes. He looked around the minute the spinning began to cease, noticing the faded green of open curtains, beds much like the one he was uncomfortably resting upon visible in each, one closed to his left.

At the end of his bed, he could see the table filled with a rather large abundance of sweets, one packet of Bertie Bott's opened. He looked around again to see a familiar figure approaching, clothed in the same eccentric robes as always, hat perched upon his head much less precariously than the spectacles on his thin, crooked nose.

"Harry, my boy." The old man smiled as he took a careful seat at the side of Harry's feet on the bed, bright eyes sparkling as he looked at harry before turning his sight on the sweets piled up beside him. "I see Mr. Weasley has taken the liberty of opening your sweets for you." he reached in and plucked single bean from the many "I was unfortunate enough to stumble across a vomit flavoured one in my youth and haven't been keen on them since," he twisted the beige-coloured bean between his slender, liver-spotted fingers, examining it over his half-moon glasses "I think I shall just g for a simple toffee." he popped the bean into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully for a moment "Alas! Earwax!" He exclaimed as Harry tilted his continually pounding head, looking at Dumbledore's blurry figure as he fumbled for is slightly broken glasses at the bedside.

"Professor?" he asked simply, intending to say more but finding the scratchiness of his voice and rawness of his throat too painful to uphold for long.

"Ah." Dumbledore didn't seem to stop smiling, he looked in control and very aware "You're wondering what happened?" he reached out a bony arm, offering harry a glass of cold water he gratefully took. He drank deeply before continuing.

"Yes sir,"

"It would seem professor Quirrel was temporarily housing the Dark Lord, Voldemort," Harry was somewhat surprised, apart from himself and Ed who refused to be bothered by something as supposedly ridiculous as a mere name, Dumbledore was the only other person who would refer to the man by the name "And was trying to steal the stone in an attempt to regain his body."

Harry looked down at his hands, eyes stinging as he stared at bandages and slim fingers "But, what about-?" he made a somewhat half hearted wave with his hand, still swaddled in bandages despite not causing him pain in the slightest

"Ah." the man made another noise of realisation, still nonplussed to the point of being unsettling "You want to know what happened?" Harry nodded mutely, tongue suddenly feeling like sandpaper in his mouth, as though it would scratch away at the roof of his mouth and make his teeth blunt should he even try to speak. "A creature of evil as that could not touch something so pure as yourself. You are marked, my dear boy." harry raised his eyebrows as he brushed his fringe over "No, no. This mark cannot be seen." harry dropped his arm "It is the mark left by your mother. The mark of a mother's love." he smiled as, across the room, the noise of the metal rings moving over the metal pole and the crinkle of the fabric of the curtain moving filled Harry's ears.

Harry caught a glimpse of familiar gold, paired with something of a growl that let him know the occupant of the other curtained-off section was not happy. Not at all. Dumbledore stood as heels clicked rhythmically over a squeaky clean floor. He looked over as he stood. His bright robe fell back around to his feet.

"My boy, I must go - there is another with whom I must make an acquaintance, as I believe madame Pomfrey wishes to make yours."

Ed had woken up under the strict stare of the school nurse, who, despite their lack of prior contact, he was sure did not like him very much. She looked down at him through eyes that did not hide any of the disapproval the woman felt.

"What have you been doing with yourself Mr. Elric?" she asked with her hands on her hips "How did you get this," She leaned forwards and rapped her knuckles on the arm he couldn't feel the noise hollow "And are you aware of just how detrimental such heavy prosthetic limbs may be to your growth?"

He grit his teeth and breathed in deeply "Don't call me short!"

"Why, I wasn't Mr. Elric," She tried to console quickly "I was merely mentioning the likely unhealthy strain such limbs put upon your body." There was something odd to her expression Ed simply could not find a name for as he thought of the look on Winry's face should she hear the words of the nurse, criticising her precious automail. "But-" She began somewhat unsurely "I must say, in both the wizarding and muggle worlds, I have never seen a prosthetic so advanced, not even close, to yours."

Winry would have been happier to hear that. He pondered his response for a moment "Amestris..." he began, stumbling for a moment "Amestris is pretty behind in most things," he pushed himself up, onto his elbows before his hands, before just pushing his back to the backboard of the medical bed. "But, when it comes to automail, we lead the pack."

"That's what you call these?" She asked, raising a thin, sharp eyebrow. He nodded. "I don't think I really want to know why your country is so advanced in a field such as this - if these limbs are not uncommon within an audience like yourself it is not hard to imagine why."

Ed almost snickered, knowing that could have meant one of two things and, in one, they certainly would have been. However, he knew it would be wiser to withhold that information from the already very concerned nurse, so he went to the first of the possibilities "No. Most children don't walk around on automail." of course, some did, he was the perfect example of that even if the process by which he had obtained the need for them strayed so immensely from the regular "But there is this town called Rush valley where everyone with an interest in it, engineers and users who particularly care about them," Madame Pomfrey got the sense, from those few words alone, he was not a part of that demographic "I'm sure you'd find a few more there."

She tutted as the door to the infirmary came to an audible close.

"I could regrow them for you." She told him in hushed ones.

He very much doubted that but did not protest as she waved her wand over the steel, no time to wait for him to express permission. Sparks of blue encased his arm but they did not do anything but fizzle away to no effect.

She looked through wide eyes, down at her failure as Ed pushed his legs over the side of the bed and made to stand, having just noticed the pile of sweets at the edge of the bed and the emptiness of his stomach.

"I knew it wouldn't work." he told her wryly as he chewed on the end of a licorice wand thoughtfully.

"But, why?" She looked a little bit shaken as something she'd rather not consider rose to mind "The only explanation I can think of would be a curse..."

Ed looked at her, then back to his steel toes, contrasting with the flesh of his other foot and the white of the cold floor it could not feel "No." It wasn't a curse, he just wasn't going to admit that it was something certifiably worse.

"Then why?"

"I wouldn't worry," He told her "I'll get it back." he murmured to himself, not allowing her to catch what he said as he spoke in his native language, the one she couldn't even hope to understand.

She tutted again before pulling open the curtains after a moment.

"I have to see Mr. potter now." ed nodded his understanding "Professor Dumbledore wishes to see you," She cautioned, catching Ed making to leave out of the corner of her eye "You're free to go afterwards."

He nodded again, noticing his hair was loose as his fringe moved to obscure his vision.

Then the familiar form of Albus Dumbledore approached, robe sweeping around his feet, almost making him appear to be gliding over the floor rather than walking across it. He walked up to Ed, closing the curtain behind him again as Madame Pomfrey replaced him in Harry's area.

"Mr. Elric," He smiled widely "I would expect nothing less!" He didn't miss a beat "The military of Amestris, as doubtful as I may have been, really appears to know more than I have given them credit for." Ed almost smiled. "Though I must admit," Dumbledore continued with a tilt of his head, great white beard cascading down the front of his robes, falling from a different angle "It is rather embarrassing to have to admit a defeat in an art so complex and noble as that of alchemy. You deserve it."

"You practice alchemy?" it was perhaps rather hard to believe a wizard as old as Dumbledore whose very existence seemed to defy the laws of science Ed lived for and felt off to disobey.

"I did so rather keenly in my youth. Myself and Nicolas Flammel developed the wizarding form of it over time, to allow more wizards to practice the art despite their insufficient knowledge in the muggle sciences imperative to true alchemy. "

"It's not quite the same." Ed leaned back on the table behind him, ungloved hands placed in gaps in the pile of edible gifts.

"No." Dumbledore agreed.

They waited in silence for a moment as Ed handed Dumbledore one of the chocolate frogs he wasn't going to eat himself, still chewing on the licorice.

"What of the stone?" Ed asked as he finished his sweet "Even if it isn't the real thing, it's not the safest of materials."

Dumbledore had to agree "I have notified my old friend, he has enough elixir to keep himself going for long enough to make odds and ends of his debts, but, yes, the stone has been destroyed." Ed felt none of the sinking in his stomach he had been expecting to feel - even if it wasn't the real stone, it shared the same name - realising only then that Dumbledore had not taken to the response used by most alchemist when faced with conversation about the real stone; denying its existence as little more than myth or legend.

"I do hope," Dumbledore introduced a new topic of conversation "That your military will be willing to come to our aid when things go awry." Both Dumbledore and ed were overly aware of the use of the word 'when' as opposed to 'if'.

Ed shivered a bit, rubbing a cold metal hand across a living arm, sending the coolness across his skin even further. "I'll do my best, but the Fuhrer isn't keen on giving foreign aid and the military is full of corruption," he sighed a bit "So, by extension as a military nation, is the rest of the country."

Ed and Harry me up as hey walked away from the infirmary a while later, both clothed in their school uniforms (Ed in his usual pseudo uniform), bandages gone and cuts healed, still feeling a little bit groggy in a way Ed knew he was perhaps a bit too used to.

"Your arm?" Harry asked cautiously as they walked, ears picking up the metallic clang that followed Ed everywhere, louder than ever.

Ed sighed, knowing he was going to spend much that day discussing the automail he wished he had Winry to talk about for him "It's a prosthetic," He said after a moment "just like my leg."

"And the blade?" He shied back a little, stopping mid step.

"Simple alchemy!" Ed laughed.

"Does it no bother you?"

"Sometimes," he admitted "But it's pretty helpful at times," he exhaled deeply "But it's my fault and I completely deserve it." he mumbled the last part, leaving harry to hear some sort of incoherent mumbling he was not prepared to ask about.

They met Ron and Hermione within the space of a couple of minutes, both smiling widely as they saw them approaching from the top of the staircase they waited at the base of.

"How are you doing?" Harry asked.

"Good." Ron responded as his smile widened.

"Ed?" he pressed further.

"Not bad at all."

"Hermione?

"Never better!"

They wandered into the hall as a group, finding it already full and decorated in green and silver. Ed looked around, blinking rapidly and feeling his heart against his ribs as he considered the questions sure to come from Ron and Hermione about his automail - they might come via post during the holiday but he knew Harry wouldn't keep it a secret for so long from his best friends and Ed didn't mind that too much anymore.

"We won the house cup?" he asked, having payed only minimal attention to the points throughout the year due to him feeling as though he didn't belong in any one of them. His words were drowned out by the raucous chorus of cheers emanating from the table who wore the same colours as Ed.

From the front of the hall, up on the stage, a few minutes post, Dumbledore clapped a little bit "yes, well done Slytherin! However," the cheering died down a little "I do believe the distribution of a few last minute points is needed." the clapping and calling stopped entirely, turning into a mess of confused glances and whispers. "First, to Ron Weasley, for the best played game of chess this school has seen in many a year!" Ron paused and looked around, grin stretching from ear to ear as his brothers clapped him roughly on the back "I award you 50 points!"

The Gryffindor table clapped and cheered, taking over the role Slytherin had left vacant.

"Second, Miss Hermione Granger. For fantastic bravery and incredible use of brain power in times of need!" Hermione smiled at Ron from across the table, neither grin easing at all "I award 50 points!"

The cheering increased tenfold.

"Next, Harry Potter, for outstanding bravery and the willingness to protect the school! 60 points!" that put Gryffindor in the lead by some 50 points, much to the chagrin of the Slytherin table.

"Next, Neville Longbottom. It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to your enemies, but a great deal more to stand up to your friends! 10 points!" Ron, Harry, and Hermione remembered Neville having tried to stop them from going out that night not wanting them to leave and lose more points for the house he had grown to love.

"Finally, Edward Elric," for the first time, as they began to cheer, Ed didn't feel ostracised amongst Slytherin House "For great bravery, application of intelligence, and superb willingness to act in aid of the school! 60 points!"

He clapped his hands. "Now, I do believe a change in decoration is needed?"

The banners around the hall shifted as though being blown in a gentle gust of wing, shimmering as they shifted, one half changing to the rich red and gold that made all the Gryffindors cheer, the other half remaining the regal-seeming green and silver of Slytherin.

For the first time since the falling-out of the founders, it seemed that the house of Godric Gryffindor and the house of Salazar Slytherin were joined together in a state of joyous camaraderie. Amongst all the cheers, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ed joined halfway across the hall, celebrating together and not with their houses.

As Hermione clung to Ed's arm in her celebration, she felt something through his robe, much more than an arm, but, in that moment, she could not have cared less about it.

 **A/N**

 **So this is a fairly long chapter, but it is the penultimate chapter of this fic! Be prepared for the sequel that'll come after I finish one of my other stories because I'm gonna need a bit of a break from this after (hopefully) next week's instalment!**

 **I'm not going to lie; I meant to have this updated yesterday, but my WiFi completely shut off ad didn't come back until this morning!**

 **So, this A/N is very out-of-character for me - I'm not a big fan of exclamation marks, especially when I'm writing something as myself. Oh well.**

 **I'll mention now, in case I forget to in the last chapter, that the sequel will be called** _ **the Art of Secrecy**_ **and I, though I don't know about you, am very much looking forward to it.**


	36. Chapter 36

Harry looked at his friends once again as he stepped out of the train, the slightly dirty floor of the platform numerous school children had trampled meeting his feet with clarity. He didn't want to go back, not to the Dursleys.

As he adjusted his glasses, he spoke.

"See you next year," It was the first time he had ever been entirely assured of the existence of this world, but he was going to voice his confidence as though it had never so much as wavered.

He was met with a series of smiles, waves, and parting words as Ron and Hermione rushed to meet their families, surely eagerly waiting to tell them of all their exciting endeavours during the year they had not done over letter or visit at half term. But Ed stayed with him, right by his side even as they crossed through the boundary that separated the world of the magical from the mundane.

They both stood there for a moment more, on a platform so crowded they could barely hear the whistles and creak of the trains as they came in and went. Ed glanced down at his pocket watch a time or two, anxiously drumming his fingers over the surface between glimpses. Harry was very aware of the noise of metal gently striking metal to his side, he couldn't tune it out.

"How did you-" he began, but a train, louder though smaller than most, came into the platform nearest to where they stood.

Ed leaned forwards and looked around, braid disturbed by the wind.

"That's mine," he told Harry simply as he replaced the pocket watch, back into his pocket where it had sat for the whole year "Anything important you needed to say before I left?" he was smiling widely, like he was looking forward to something as well, like Harry was the only one who did not have something to go to.

"Nothing pressing, no." he felt his heart sink a little at the thought of being left alone to wait for the Dursleys who did not care enough to assume their usual punctuality.

"See ya then," Ed strode forwards, departing with a mock salute "I better get back to my brother!" His sharp teeth were exposed, but the usual feral nature of his grin wasn't there. "I'm sure you'll be meeting him, one day." That was him reassuring them both, one day these things wouldn't be so much a secret from the kids he felt he could call friends. Just not yet. Not until he fixed it. _He was going to fix it._

With a sigh, Harry resigned himself to the fact he was being left alone as the train whistled away and Ed's face disappeared from the window. He wove through the bustling crowd in a manner only accomplishable by a scrawny kid such as himself, freeing himself from the depths of the station.

He wandered outside, into the warm air. Looking around, he located himself a ledge near the entrance where he could sit to wait for the Dursleys. Savouring the occasional breath of cool breeze, he remembered something. Without missing a beat, he undid his bag and dug through the new opening in search of the gift Hagrid had given him as he stepped up onto the departing rain.

There it was!

It was a fairly old thing, but, to Harry, it was perfect and precious. Two faces, semi familiar but not enough so, decorated the front of the photo album: his mother and father, smiling as though they hadn't known they would be dead within a five year maximum of the photo being taken.

Inside was a series of pictures, each taken with the camera of a wizard that could capture movement instead of the muggle's simple snapshot of life there would rarely be an abundance of context behind. Harry saw himself in a fair few, younger than he could remember being. He probably didn't even know the Dursleys existed when the pictures had been taken…

And there they were, their car pulling up to the station. They were late but began to hurry him in as though it were his fault they were dreadfully behind schedule.

As the car drove off at as fast of a speed as its little motor could manage, Harry sent a final fleeting glance to the station, already anticipating the next school year.

Ed sat on the train, a family sitting in the booth he could see, a group of old men sitting behind him, a man in his roup, kind-looking but very much absorbed in his newspaper, a few more miscellaneous people sitting elsewhere in the carriage. He kept checking his watch; he couldn't wait to get back to Al.

He smiled back at the little girl as she popped her head up over the booth for the umpteenth time. She giggled a little bit, her short, mousy hair moving with her.

There was a fair bit of Deja Vu there. He knew what it was - he just hoped it wouldn't happen again. Especially because he didn't have Al or Hughes there this time around. He did, however, have his wand should he need it.

Though, in a cart of Amestrian muggles, not one who had left at the last station, he wasn't exactly eager to reveal the magic world of Britain carelessly.

The train rattled over the tracks, the wind whistling through the open window. Ed hadn't realised but, judging by the piles of finished books and additional notes he had made, hours had passed.

He yawned, waved, and checked his watch for the first time in a while. But the ticking of the hands didn't stop, it didn't drop in volume at all. He drew it from his pocket, confused, and examined the clock face, looking anywhere but the engraving he had made in the top.

 _The noise and the movement of the hands didn't line up._

He looked up warily as he heard a voice thunder from only a few metres in front of him, at the front of the carriage.

"Hands up!" demanded a man with dirty blonde hair and a face set firmly into a scowl "or you all die!" he held up a little device menacingly. It continued to tick steadily as Ed felt his heartbeat assume the same pace. His stomach dropped to his knees as he sat there, hand above his head, sleeve slipping down.

Why did history have to repeat itself?

His eye caught the metal of his arm, exposed and reflecting the light that streamed through the slightly open windows as though everything was just peachy.

Across the booth, the man examined him, warm eyes travelling from the glinting steel to the golden eyes that were _not_ appropriately scared.

"I can fix this," Ed whispered, mouth moving in exaggerated ways to ensure that he was understood when he could not speak loud enough to ensure he was heard "Just leave me a moment until he is distracted."

Then another man walked in, grisled and haggard, gun gripped firmly in his hand, pressed firmly against the temple of his hostage, conductor held close to the man's chest as he walked through the centre, through to the next carriage where they could no longer be seen. Everyone held their breath as the man walked past.

They were sitting on a train without a conductor.

Surely they were doomed?

The man across from Ed cocked a nervous eyebrow.

"Or until _they_ are distracted," he amended, looking around frantically for a moment before darting behind the turned back of the initial criminal. The man watched on, somewhere between bemused and terrified for the strange kid as he disappeared from the view of everyone within their carriage. His arms ached dully and he could hear the gentle, hushed, whimpering cries of the young girl in front.

Ed crouched as he peered around the corner of the slight bit of cover he had been given. The criminal was still berating a woman as she sobbed hysterically, oblivious to Ed's disappearance.

Ed cursed his luck as he fumbled for his wand, drawing it after a moment. He poked his head subtly round the corner as he held the tip of the wand against the wall, just poking around.

He whispered "Petrificus Totalus,"

Then there was a flash, a blinding white light not one passenger in that carriage missed. It hit the mountainous man squarely between his shoulder blades. As though he had suddenly been bound by some manner of invisible bond that refused to relent, his limbs snapped as close to his body and each other as they would go. The bomb dropped from his hand and Ed whispered another spell to protect it.

"Wingardium Leviosa," he guided the explosive packet back to himself as he crimina swayed on suddenly unsteady feet. Ed pocketed his wand as the man fell, heavy and ungraceful, a log unceremoniously cut down, backwards. His head hit the ground with a resounding thud and his eyes, delirious even before, rolled back.

Ed supposed that was one of them dealt with - there was just the conductor's captor left.

In an Amestrian military HQ, a phone began to ring loudly.

It was answered by a man with a baby face, decorated with an expression of arrogance.

"Central HQ," he told the caller curtly as he listened to the voice on the other side of the line. It was a warning - an attack on a train. The receiver, Colonel Roy Mustang, felt as though he had had the exact same conversation a while before.

He snorted slightly and hope the amused noise was disguised well enough as a tired sigh, as he looked at the paper chart his lieutenant had kindly left him.

"Don't worry," he told the caller who had been requesting help to save the passengers "The Fullmetal Alchemist is on that train-"

The other line went dead. Mustang leaned back over his chair, relaxed and very pointedly avoiding the paperwork on his desk. His lieutenant, Riza Hawkeye, walked into the room.

"Why is it that Fullmetal always gets into trouble like this?" he asked her, not so much as bothering to open his relaxed eyes.

"Why is it that you've still got unfinished paperwork on this desk that was overdue a week ago?" She responded in monotone, hand placed gently on the handgun on her hip.

He stopped avoiding that paperwork.

Ed clapped his hands sharply, effectively rendering the bomb harmless, before sprinting down the length of the train, to the other criminal.

The cold barrel of the old man's gun was still pressed to the conductor's head. The poor man was sweating, his eyes unfocused, his hands shaking as he fumbled with a large key, scratching the lacquer off of the door with every attempt.

"Hurry up!" the old man said in a rough, scratchy voice. "We ain't got the whole shitty day!"

The conductor whimpered before glancing around. He recoiled when he saw Ed, approaching behind the criminal who was none-the-wiser. Praying to Truth the terrified man would understand and comprehend his message, he pressed the index finger of his left hand to his lips. His right hand was held slightly above his head, sharpened edge and end glimmering in the artificial light beaming down from the ceiling.

But the old man had seen the recoil of the conductor.

He spun with the speed of a whip, shooting off a bullet in Ed's direction without aiming. But you couldn't get the Fullmetal Alchemist that easily; Ed simply lowered his right hand and let the bullet strike the fat side of the blade, rebounding back off it.

Seeing opportunity where it may or may not have been, the conductor scrambled away, trying his absolute best to be silent.

The old man shot again, though straight up this time, in an attempt to draw Ed's attention to the flying bullet as he sprung forwards and aimed a punch at the boy's head.

But his fist was caught, just as he soon was, after his attack had been returned tenfold and he could not see through the swollen skin, a sickening shade of purple that faded to yellow the further from the source it strayed, surrounding his eye.

As the train pulled into the station, the two criminals, trapped in a cage Ed had alchemised, were deposited off to the waiting military staff.

"What did they want?" Ed asked the shaken conductor.

"Gold," The man said, staring at a young boy who seemed to have been made of the very thing the man who had damn near killed him had been asking for.

The man tucked his paper beneath his arm as he walked off the train, disoriented. But he saw the boy who had saved him, surrounded by a group of people dressed in blue.

"Not bad, Fullmetal," A man said as the boy scowled up at him.

The man from the train grimaced a little: this was a state alchemist - if the youngest of them was like this, how bad could the veterans be? - he supposed he could kiss that dream goodbye.

He walked off with a sigh, turning as he heard the clashing of metal and metal. He was startled, thinking the criminals had found another thing to use as a weapon, but there was the boy, captured in a tight… hug?... by a gargantuan suit of armour.

He left, shaking his head and shaking, trying to sort his thoughts and release his newly formed memories from their place in his head.

Ed smiled at his brother, lost as though his face would split. He couldn't wait to tell him exactly what else he would learn when he got there. He would - though perhaps not until the impeding danger had passed. He couldn't do that to Al twice, he was doing it to him in the world they shared and was not sure if he could live knowing he did it in the one that was his own as well.


	37. AN

**This is just an Author's note to let anyone who is interested know that The Art of Secrecy is now up and available!**

 **I know I said I'd wait until i finished another story but I just couldn't do it. So here we are.**

 **I hope everyone enjoys it - I don't know if all the chapters are going to be as long as the first; I was just trying to create myself a platform to write on with Ed's situation at present before deciding it was probably best to recap briefly over the happening in the beginning of the Chamber of Secrets. I suppose that just became a bit less brief than I'd originally intended…**

 **But that's okay!**

 **As always, constructive criticism is beyond valuable to me and don't be shy to point out typos: I promise I can spell but I am very aware of the fact that I cannot type. Honestly, if I was any worse with technology I would be full on Shin from Eyeshield…**

 **Anyway,**

 **I hope you all enjoy.**

 **Best regards,**

 **~We'reAllABitOdd**

 **PS. it's summer and I can hear the rain outside when the thunder isn't blocking it and I just saw a flash of lightning through my closed blinds. British summer times are hardly the best.**


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